Look Beyond What You See
by hachoo
Summary: There was more to George's missing ear than just physical damage. Now he and Fred are struggling with a problem that could endanger their lives while the war rages on around them. What could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Right, yet _another_ Fred and George story. Those two just won't leave me alone. I don't know if this has been done yet- probably has, but I was just thinking about ears (in terms of George losing one, I do NOT randomly think about ears in my spare time), and I started wondering how there were no side effects when George lost his. So I did some research, and came up with…. this. I don't really know if it's AU, because while it's not mentioned in the book, it _could_ have happened and we just wouldn't know. So yeah. I hope you guys enjoy it, and please review!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything in this story (except the plot). But if I did….the things I could do…

**Look Beyond What You See**

**Chapter 1**

In the days following the Battle over Little Whinging, George found that he- or to be more precise, his ear- was a constant source of concern for his family.

The day after the attack, he could feel everyone's gaze flicker to the hole in his head as he sat down at the table. George could handle the glances at first, but after several days it was beginning to frustrate him to no end. There were several times where he had been on the verge of snapping, but a warning look from Fred had kept his mouth shut.

Fred, who had been a constant source of support to George since he had lost his ear. Fred had kept the jokes going in front of their family, to the point where any mention of the words 'ear', 'saint' or 'holey' would cause a loud collective groan from all the occupants of the Burrow, whether it was intended as a pun or not. However when they were alone Fred would drop the act, becoming the person George could complain to and provide comfort when George woke up in the middle of the night in pain.

It was during the wedding reception when George first realised that there was more to his ear injury than just the physical damage. He and Fred had been outside flirting with two of Fleur's stunning Veela cousins when they had all seen a bright light rapidly approaching.

"What is that?" Fred asked, squinting.

"It kind of looks like…" George's voice trailed off as they both realised the light was in the shape of a lynx.

"…a patronus," Fred finished, and with a quick glance at each other they took off, sprinting back towards the tent, leaving Fleur's cousins behind. Panting, they arrived just in time to hear Kingsley's deep voice echo from the middle of the dance floor, where his patronus had presumably landed.

"_The ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming_."

There was a pause for a few seconds as the entire crowd fell silent, trying to accommodate this new knowledge. Then, a scream pierced the air and all of a sudden there was mass chaos as everyone began to panic, running for the exits. Fred and George both pulled their wands out and ran into the crowd, trying to find members of their immediate family. George had just spotted Bill and was about to head over when Fred grabbed his arm.

"George!" He yelled, and it was only then that George noticed the cloaked and masked figures making their way to the crowd, their wands raised warningly. He heard several people cast protective spells nearby, and his grip tightened on his wand as he prepared to cast his own.

"Protego!" He yelled, hearing Fred do the same beside him. George watched as several spells aimed at them were reflected back to the death eaters. Around them, he could hear people disapperating rapidly, plates and glassware shattering from stray spells. One side of the canopy had caught fire and the guests were frantically running away from it; however he and Fred maintained their positions, determined to protect their family.

All of a sudden, George felt the world begin to spin. He looked around anxiously, trying to find an explanation, but was unable to get a grasp on his moving surroundings. The tables, chairs, people all merged into one swirling mass, and George reached out desperately, searching for something to grip onto but all his hand could sense was air. Around him, he could hear voices and sounds, but they were strangely muffled, as though something was covering his ears. His breathing quickened as he felt his vision began to darken, and he felt a sense of nausea begin to grow in his stomach, threatening to overtake him.

In the midst of his confusion he suddenly felt a pair of hands grip his sides, wrapping around him, holding him steady, keeping him upright as his knees threatened to buckle. George clung to the person's shoulders, his vision still spinning.

"George? George?" The person was saying urgently, and George would have smiled if he wasn't feeling so dizzy. Fred. Of course it was Fred. It would always be Fred.

George maintained his weak grip on Fred's shoulders, his head bowed as he struggled to breathe through the darkness threatening to surround him. His stomach lurched as both he and Fred suddenly dropped to the ground; George's first thought was that his knees had finally given way, but as Fred pushed him behind a table he realised Fred was trying to protect them from the spells still being cast.

"Stupefy!" He heard Fred yell before he turned back to George, swearing as a stray jet of red light barely missed them. "George, what is it?" He asked urgently. George swallowed, attempting to fight back the nausea. His vision was slowly returning to normal, although objects continued to swim in and out of focus.

"My- my head," he managed to get out.

"Hey. Hey, look at me George," Fred commanded, tightening his grip on George, and George wearily focused his attention on his twin. To his utter relief, Fred's head was completely stable and in focus, the only steady thing in George's vision. Beyond Fred, he could see the blurred figures of people shouting, but George could barely hear what they were saying.

"Fred-" But George was cut off as another bought of nausea hit.

"Just keep looking at me George," Fred encouraged, although his own eyes were frantically darting around them. George reluctantly kept his eyes open and focused on his twin, and after several minutes he found that his surroundings had stopped spinning, the nausea slowly diminishing.

"How did you..?" George asked as he struggled to rise to his feet.

"Never mind that, we need to get out of here," Fred said as he hauled George to his feet whilst looking for their family.

"Fred! George!" Molly came running up to the twins, looking hassled. Beyond her they could see Charlie and Ginny struggling to put out the flames that were enveloping the canopy.

"Mum!"

"Are you okay? I thought I saw one of you get hit by a spell…" she glanced at both of them, looking for injuries.

"We're fine mum," Fred reassured her.

"You two need to go to your flat. There's nothing else you can do here," Molly said immediately.

"What? No, we want to help-" George began but Molly shook her head.

"No, you'll be safer there."

George looked to Fred, expecting him to join in the protest, but to his complete shock Fred was nodding in agreement.

"No! Fred, we can't just- Fred!"George yelled, trying to get his brother's attention, but Fred just hugged their mother before grabbing George's hand tightly.

"I'm sorry about this, George," he said, and George was about to open his mouth to ask why when he felt Fred turn on the spot and the darkness was pressing against him again, but this time it was physical, it almost felt as though the universe was trying to mould him into something else. He had no sense of time or direction, and it was a relief when he felt a firm floor beneath his feet again. Until he felt the dizziness return with double the force.

"Ohh…" George let out an involuntary moan as he stumbled backwards, his vision once again reduced to swirls of colour and objects. He felt two hands on his shoulders, guiding him towards what turned out to be a bed. George sat down heavily on the soft mattress, his hands gripping the bedspread tightly in a vain attempt to keep himself centred and conscious. He felt someone squat on the floor before him and looked up from the bedspread to see an out-of-focus Fred staring back at him.

"Breathe, George," the unfocused Fred told him, and it was only then that George realised his heart was racing, his breathing ragged.

"I'm sorry. I know side-along apparition probably made it worse, but I had to get you out of there and you were in no condition to apparate on your own," Fred said regretfully, still sliding in and out of focus.

"Wh-why?" George asked as soon as he had his breathing under control. Fred winced slightly at the accusing tone.

"George, you collapsed in the middle of the fight-" Fred tried to explain, but George wasn't in the mood to hear Fred's reasoning.

"We just left our family back there!" He half yelled, beginning to rise from the bed before thinking twice and staying seated as his vision spun again. "They could be getting tortured or killed for all we know, and you just apparated us away!"

"I didn't have a choice! You heard mum, there was nothing else we could do! They would have just pulled us in for questioning with everyone else!"

"Then we should have stayed and been questioned with everyone else! That's what families do!"

"You just _collapsed_ George! Do you have _any_ idea how bloody _worried _I was? You could have been hit, you could have _died _you stupid git!" Fred exploded as he rose to his feet. "So don't you dare lecture me on what families do, George. You think I don't know what could be happening to everyone else right now?"

Fred's cheeks were flushed in anger, and it was only then that George realised how scared Fred was.

"I'm…. I'm sorry Fred, I didn't mean it like that. God, I'm just- anything could be happening to them right now and we're just stuck here waiting." George sighed as he rubbed his eyes wearily, glad his vision had returned to normal again. He felt the bed shift as Fred sat next to him silently.

"Why did I collapse?" George eventually burst out bitterly. "It's never happened before, why did it have to happen now of all times?"

"About that. I umm… I have a theory," Fred said hesitantly. George turned to him with raised eyebrows.

"I was talking to Hermione before, about your ear. And she was saying that she was surprised you weren't displaying any symptoms of dizziness or nausea because apparently the ear has an important role in our sense of balance or something like that."

George was silent for a moment, his hand unconsciously rising to feel the side of his head where his ear had been.

"You think all this… was caused by my missing ear?" He asked eventually.

"Well, it would explain why you collapsed at the reception. You've never done that before. Maybe it was because of all the noise and chaos and everything," Fred said, shrugging. George was quiet, lost in his thoughts.

"Well, I have been feeling a bit dizzy lately, but I thought that was just because of the blood loss," he finally spoke, frowning.

"Maybe it was something more than that. We don't know what other damage the curse causes. Maybe when it hit your ear, it also disrupted something in your head," Fred suggested.

"Oh great," George sighed, lying back on the bed. "Not only am I missing an ear, now there's a chance something's wrong with my brain. Bloody brilliant."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with your brain,' Fred said firmly as he stood up. "You're perfectly fine; we just have to find something to stop the dizziness. And preferably the fainting. You're bloody heavy, George."

"Oi, I didn't faint," George said indignantly, sitting up. "And I weigh the same as you!"

"Or really? So what would you call your little swoon then?" Fred asked, brows raised, arms folded in front of his chest.

"I was just… I was… oh shove off," George said grumpily as Fred burst out laughing.

"So what are we going to do?" Fred asked when he finally stopped chuckling.

"What can we do?" George asked grumpily, arms crossed.

"Maybe we can go to St Mungo's?" Fred proposed.

"Is it safe? I mean, you heard Kingsley's patronus. The ministry's fallen. What's to say St Mungo's isn't in death eater hands too?"

Fred considered this, frowning.

"Well maybe we can ask dad."

"We'll have to wait until we get an all clear from someone though," George added, glancing at his watch. Fred sat down heavily on his own bed, propping his back against the headboard.

"Do you think they're all okay?" He asked.

"I don't know. I suppose Ron went off with Harry and Hermione on whatever quest they have. The others…" George's voice trailed off.

"Well come on," Fred said, rising from his bed.

"Where are we going?" George asked cautiously.

"Kitchen. You nearly fainted George, if mum finds out I didn't force feed you to get your energy levels back, we'll both get an earful."

"Well I'd love to 'ear that," George asked, lip twitching.

"That's the spirit!" Fred said with a wink.

George caught Fred's eye and the two burst out laughing as they headed downstairs.

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><p><em>See the review button? It likes you. It WANTS you to press it. Please be nice to the review button and press it! :)<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Big thanks to** chocolateMnMs, MaddyGervais, midnightstar19 **and everyone else who reviewed. It means a lot that you guys took the time, and I'm glad you're interested so far. Also thanks to everyone who put this on story alert; I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

**Chapter 2**

As it turned out, Fred and George only had to wait two days before they received an encrypted message from their mother giving them the all clear.

"Fred! It's safe to go back home!" George called to his brother upstairs. Fred came pounding down the stairs, still struggling to get his shirt on.

"Did you get a letter from mum? What does it say?" He asked frantically, trying to button up his shirt.

"Fred, you missed… well, all of them," George said, pointing at Fred's completely lopsided shirt. Sighing, Fred began undoing the buttons, before looking at George expectantly.

"Well?" He prompted.

"Oh right. It says that Ginny's preparing to go to Hogwarts, and she'd like to see at least two of her older brothers before she goes, because Ron's not much company at the moment with his spattergroit."

"So basically the only people at home are Mum, Dad and Ginny. The others must have all left," Fred concluded, successfully buttoning his shirt.

"Exactly."

"Well, I guess we'd better pop in then!" Fred exclaimed, grabbing a jacket slung over the chair.

"Oi, that's mine!"

"Oh right, sorry…"

George shrugged on his jacket and turned back to Fred, who had apparently summoned his own, too lazy to go back upstairs.

"So umm… however are we getting there?" George asked, trying to sound nonchalant, although inside his heart was racing at the thought of side apparating again. Fred looked at him, frowning in concern.

"Well, I originally thought Floo powder, because you didn't take well to apparating. But I don't think it's any better; if anything it might be worse. What do you think?" He asked George.

George swallowed, considering his two options. Apparating was terrible. It had made him feel sick and dizzy, and he could only think of two worse ways to travel. Unfortunately, Floo powder was one of them (the Knight Bus was the other).

"I suppose…. apparition," he said, shifting uncomfortably. Fred eyed him carefully.

"Are you sure you want to come?" He asked gently. "I can explain to mum-"

"No," George said stubbornly, shaking his head. "I'm coming." Fred sighed, knowing when to give up.

"Alright, well, you'd better apparate with me. I don't want you ending up collapsing half way across the country or something," Fred said he grabbed George's hand tightly in his own. George closed his eyes and waited for the uncomfortable sensation with a held breath.

A few seconds later, they landed in the field close to their house, just beyond the wards that had been put in place. Fred immediately grabbed at George, who had begun to sink to his knees, clutching at his head.

"Hey, hey, easy George," he coached, trying to hide the worry from his voice. George's eyes were unfocused, his face tinged green.

"Fred," he gasped out, trying to focus on his brother unsuccessfully. "I don't feel good."

"I know, I know George," Fred said sympathetically, wishing he could do more than offer words of comfort. By now George was leaning completely on Fred, unable to do anything more than focus on his own breathing. Fred had his arms wrapped around George, keeping him on his feet.

"Breathe, George, remember? It'll go away, the dizziness will go away," he said soothingly as he adjusted his grip slightly, taking on more of George's weight. He could feel George try to take his advice, taking deeper breaths, closing his eyes as he willed the wooziness away. It was several minutes later when he could finally stand on his own without Fred's assistance.

"I'm never going to get used to that," he murmured, rubbing his eyes as though clearing his vision. Fred sighed resignedly.

"Join the club," he mumbled as they began the trek to the Burrow.

The minute they walked through the back door, Molly was on them in a flash.

"Boys!" She cried before pulling them into her arms.

"Mu-um," Fred protested half heartedly, but he wrapped his own arms around her, relishing in the fact that she was fine. George was doing the same beside him.

"Are you both alright?" She asked when she finally pulled away.

"Yeah, we're both fine," Fred said, before shooting a quick glance at George. "But mum, we've got something to-"

Fred was interrupted as a red haired missile flew into his arms.

"Oomph!" Fred exclaimed in surprise, glancing down. He found his youngest and only sister clinging to him tightly.

"Hey, what about me?" George asked, pulling off an impressive pout. Ginny giggled and let go of Fred to hug George.

"How are you doing, George?" She asked quietly, gaze flickering for a moment to the hole in his head.

"Can't complain," he said with a shrug, ignoring Fred's pointed stare.

"Well good. I'll prepare lunch, shall I?" Molly asked enthusiastically, already making her way to the kitchen. Fred, George and Ginny trailed behind her, all eager to catch up.

"So what happened after we left?" George asked immediately. Ginny sat down at the table, her brothers quickly following suit.

"Well the few Order members who were left eventually fought off the death eaters. But by then we knew others would be coming, so we had to make a run for it. Mum and I went with Bill and Fleur to their new home, and dad took off with Charlie. We thought it would be better if we split up. Ron, Harry and Hermione took off together as well, but I don't think we'll see them for a while," she finished sadly.

"So no-one's come around asking questions yet?" Fred asked incredulously. Ginny shook her head.

"No, but dad says it's only a matter of time," she replied glumly.

"You two had better be careful too," Molly's voice sounded from her position near the stove.

"Why?"

"They'll probably come to question you as well. Your father thinks they'll try and contact the whole family, to keep tabs on us."

Fred and George exchanged a glance as Molly set their lunch on the table.

"This looks great, thanks mum," George said gratefully as they tucked in. Fred, whose mouth was already full, nodded enthusiastically.

"Chew, Fred!" Ginny said in alarm as she watched Fred stuff an entire potato into his mouth.

"You _have _been eating properly, haven't you?" Molly asked warningly as she watched her sons eat.

"Yeah, but there's nothing like your cooking, mum," Fred said when he had finally swallowed. Molly beamed at him as she served them more food.

"You should see what Fred can do to eggs," George muttered to Ginny. "Turns them completely hard, I don't know how he manages it!" Ginny giggled.

"As I recall George, _your_ eggs ended up purple," Fred remarked lightly, stealing a piece of chicken from George's plate. They both looked distinctly pleased as Ginny's laughter echoed through the kitchen.

After lunch, both twins felt absolutely stuffed. The four headed to the living room, where they collapsed onto the couches.

"So, what happened to you two?" Ginny asked as she curled her legs beneath her.

"Actually, we kind of have a question about that. Mum, is it safe to go to St Mungo's?" Fred asked.

"St Mungo's? Why do you need to go to St Mungo's? What's happened?" Molly asked frantically, jumping up from her seat.

"It's nothing, just a small issue," George said soothingly.

"Hardly small," Fred muttered darkly.

"But is it safe, mum?" George asked after shooting a glare at Fred.

"Well yes, it's St Mungo's, of course it's safe. But _why_ do you need to go there?" Molly probed.

"Well it's kind of hard to explain-"

"We think something's wrong with George's ear. When we were fighting before, at the reception, he fainted-"

"I didn't _faint_, Fred-"

"-and he gets dizzy easily. Especially when we apparate," Fred added.

"Oh no," Molly said, a hand over her mouth in horror. Ginny was staring at her brothers with wide eyes.

"So when I saw you both crouched on the floor behind a table…" Molly began, and Fred nodded.

"That was when George collapsed."

A silence fell over the room.

"But why is it happening?" Ginny finally asked. The twins shrugged.

"Well, Fred's theory is that the curse that hit my ear damaged the inside too. But we don't know for sure, which is why we wanted to go to St Mungo's and check." George said.

"Of course. We'll go there right now, I'll message your father," Molly mumbled distractedly, rising from her couch.

"No, its okay mum, we'll go later. No need to drag you and Ginny with us," George said with a slight smile.

"Oh but-"

"Mum, we're old enough to go in for a simple check up on our own," Fred said soothingly. "Besides, it might be nothing."

"Well… if you're _sure_," Molly said, still looking worried.

"We're sure," George reassured her.

"So Gin, you're still going to Hogwarts then," Fred said, changing the topic. Ginny nodded.

"Well of course I am," she said.

"Bit dangerous though, isn't it? With Dumbledore gone and You-Know-Who on the loose?" George asked, looking at his mother strangely. If there was anything she should be concerned about…

"Your father and I were discussing that, but we decided that there was no need to disrupt Ginny's education. There's nothing else for her to do here, especially with everyone else gone," Molly explained as she stood up to leave, although her tone suggested that if she'd had it her way, Ginny would not be leaving the house for a long time. Ginny looked faintly relieved at her father's apparent intervention.

"Well you be careful there, alright?" Fred said, poking Ginny's ribs lightly. "No big brothers to protect you anymore."

"Oh please, as if you lot did anything while I was there," she said laughing, but both Fred and George could tell the thought had been plaguing her for a while.

"Aww, you know you'll miss us," George proclaimed, getting up from his own couch and squashing himself between her and the armrest. Ginny squirmed, trying to move away but Fred came and sat on her other side, effectively keeping her in place.

"Guys," she complained, still struggling, but there was a wide grin on her face.

"Ginny," Fred mimicked.

"Is your ear really bad George?" She asked seriously.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, Ginny. I just get a bit dizzy, that's all." George said comfortingly, but Ginny was never one to accept babying.

"If you're considering going to St Mungo's, then it's obviously serious," she said with a slight frown.

"We don't know for sure yet. It's just a precaution," Fred added, but they could both tell Ginny wasn't convinced.

"Well you come and tell me as soon as you know, alright?" She said warningly, making more of a demand than a request. The twins nodded solemnly.

"Now Gin, tell us all about Bill and Fleur's new house," Fred prompted, snuggling deeper against the couch cushions.

"You want to hear about their house" Ginny remarked, eyebrows raised.

"Oh yes, I'm all ears," Fred said, winking. George stifled a laugh with the back of his hand.

Ginny groaned and threw a pillow at Fred's face.

Several hours later after dinner, Fred and George decided to stay at the Burrow for the night. Although they both said it was because Arthur had yet to return home from work and they wanted to see him, Fred knew that George wasn't looking forward to apparating anytime soon. George was well aware that Fred knew, and silently thanked his brother.

By midnight Ginny decided to head off to bed, although not before making the twins swear they would stay until morning to say goodbye to her. They agreed immediately, and she went to bed with a smile on her face. Fred and George slumped on the couch next to each other, both feeling their eyes beginning to flicker as they fought off sleep.

"George?" Fred asked sleepily.

"Hmmm?" George replied.

"We should go to St Mungo's tomorrow," Fred said. George turned to look at him.

"… yeah, alright," he said after a pause. Fred nudged his shoulder, knowing exactly what the problem was.

"They'll be able to fix it, George. And if they can't, then we'll figure out a way ourselves," he said firmly. George nodded silently, although he didn't possess the same optimism Fred had.

What if it never went away?

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><p><em>Next chapter: We find out exactly what's wrong with George.<em>

_Please review! :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Right, the chapter most of you have probably been waiting for: where we find out what's wrong with George. Just so you all know, I'm not a doctor and I've had no training in the medical field. The information I included in here was stuff I found off the net. So it might not be right, but hey, magic remember? It can do weird things sometimes. Or at least that's my explanation for anything that doesn't make sense. Also, massive thanks to **MaddyGervais**, **runeaglerun**, **chocolateMnMs** and **midnightstar19** for your awesome reviews. And also everyone who put this on alert. As well as everyone who is following this. Hope you guys all enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 3**

The next morning, the twins woke to find they had fallen asleep on the couch the previous night.

"Oh Lordy," Fred moaned, feeling his back twinge in protest as he tried to stand. George was massaging his neck, which had not taken to the couch very well.

"Why did no one wake us?" He grumbled, getting to his feet as his knees creaked. Both he and Fred look down in alarm.

"Blimey, we're getting old!" Fred said in shock, listening to their bones whining at their movements.

"That's it, I'm never sleeping on a couch again," George muttered, glaring at the offensive piece of furniture.

"Oh good, you two are up! We were going to wake you last night, but you looked so peaceful sleeping there," Molly said happily. "Come on, breakfast is ready. Your father's in the kitchen already."

The twins trekked to the kitchen, still massaging their sore muscles.

"Boys!" Arthur exclaimed as he pulled his sons into a hug.

"Morning Dad!" They chorused, taking the seats opposite him. Molly placed several plates full of bacon, eggs, sausages and toast before them.

"Your mother told me about your ear, George," Arthur began immediately. George winced slightly, having forgotten that he and Fred were going to St Mungo's.

"Yeah, we're going to St Mungo today," Fred said with a quick glance at George. "The only problem is getting there."

"Can't you just apparate?" Arthur asked as he devoured a sausage.

"Well yeah, but George's ear doesn't take well to apparating at all," Fred commented. George nodded silently in agreement.

"Well the floo network is down. How about the Knight bus?" Arthur suggested. George's eyes widened in alarm.

"No, not the Knight bus," he said immediately, placing his form and knife down. "That's bad enough on a good day."

"Well it sounds like apparition is the only option," Molly said as she sat down herself to eat.

"We could have taken some form of Muggle transport if Hermione or Harry was here, but I don't want to risk it alone," Fred said, sounding almost apologetic towards George.

"Apparating is fine," George said, once again picking up his fork and knife, trying to hide the slight tremble in his hands by immediately stabbing at his sausage, and failing to notice the glance his parents and brother exchanged.

"George, are you sure you don't want us to come with you?" Arthur asked gently. "I could take a day off work, I'm sure they'd understand…"

"No, it's fine. Fred's coming with me, so I'm okay," George said quickly. Fred opened his mouth, about to suggest something, but stopped at the look George shot him. At that moment, Ginny came running down the stairs.

"Oh good, you're still here!" She said happily as she slid into the seat next to George, and the previous conversation was brought to a halt.

Once the breakfast table had been cleared Arthur went upstairs to grab some work papers while Ginny went to get changed. Molly fussed over her two sons, straightening their shirts, trying to flatten their hair.

"Mum, we're going to a hospital, not a wedding," Fred complained as he battered her hand away.

"I know, I know, I just want you both to look presentable," Molly said, fidgeting with George's collar.

"I hardly think the healers care whether we look presentable," George commented.

"You would be surprised," Molly said, shaking her finger at him.

At that moment, Arthur came bustling down the stairs, his hands full of papers. "Righto, I'm off then- whoops," he said as a large bundle of files fell from his grip.

"Oh honestly Arthur," Molly huffed as she helped him pick them up. Arthur looked slightly ashamed at his clumsiness.

"Thank you, Molly dear," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek before turning to the twins. "Good luck today boys. Be careful."

"We will, thanks dad," George replied with a slight smile. Molly removed the wards around the house for Arthur to disapparate and a second later Ginny came down.

"Are you both leaving now?" She asked, looking slightly concerned. At Fred's nod, she moved to hug George tightly.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, George," she said reassuringly before moving to hug Fred.

"Right, now, you two be careful there," Molly instructed. The twins nodded.

"We will, mum. Stop worrying!" Fred said, laughing slightly. He turned to George.

"You ready?" He asked bracingly. George swallowed and nodded, gripping onto Fred's arm tightly.

"Here we go then!"

With a loud crack, they were gone from the Burrow.

A second later, they appeared in an alleyway next to Purge and Dowse Ltd. George felt Fred grab at him as they both sank to the floor, George's vision swirling once more. He felt the nausea rise in his stomach and shut his eyes, hoping to stave it off. George felt Fred's hands gently move his head until it was resting against Fred's shoulder, and he gave a small sigh of relief as the stability eased his dizziness slightly.

"You okay George?" He heard Fred ask quietly, and George tried to make an intelligible reply but all that escaped his mouth was a pained humming noise. Fred chuckled weakly and kept his hold on George for several minutes, until George finally felt the sense of vertigo ease and he was able to get back onto his feet.

"Better?" Fred asked as he too rose to his feet.

"Yeah," George mumbled, blinking blearily. "We made it?"

"Course we made it," Fred said, frowning. "Are you questioning my apparition skills?"

"Honestly Fred, you take comments like a girl," George remarked as they exited the alleyway and approached the window of the run down department store. "And yes, I was insulting your apparition skills."

Laughing, he dodged Fred's hand, ignoring the slight pain lingering in his head, and stepped in front of the window with a dummy wearing a green dress. Together, the twins stepped through, entering into St Mungo's. Looking around at the particularly crowded reception area, Fred let out a low whistle.

"You-Know-Who's been busy, hasn't he?" He remarked. George nodded, staring at the floor guide.

"Come on, fourth floor," he muttered, tugging on Fred's jacket. Fred followed him up several flights of stairs until they finally reached the fourth floor, panting. George looked around at the corridors; the number of people with spell damage was quite alarming. The twins approached a small desk situated against a wall, where a young woman was assisting a tall man who had a severed arm. George's eyes widened and he found himself feeling grateful that it had only been his ear.

"Excuse me," Fred asked politely once the man had gone.

"Hello, what seems to be the problem?" She asked.

"Umm, it's my brother, we think there's something wrong with his ear," Fred began, but the young woman interrupted him.

"Follow me," she instructed, and led them to a door. "Through here," she said, and they walked through the doorway to find a clean, sparse room painted a light green. There was a bed pushed up against one wall, a desk and several chairs on the opposite side.

"Hello," a deep voice said. The twins turned around to see a middle aged man dressed in lime green robes smiling at them. "I am Healer Gwellmyne, how can I help you today?"

Fred and George exchanged a glance before George began to explain the situation. Healer Gwellmyne listened carefully, nodding every so often.

"Well Mr Weasley, if you could please sit here," he gestured to the bed. George sat down, Fred hovering at his side. Healer Gwellmyne proceeded to conduct several tests on George's ear, while the twins watched on. Eventually, he brought a chair towards the bed and sat down on in, regarding George.

"Mr Weasley, you were right to be concerned," he began, and Fred felt his heart sink. "As you are no doubt aware, the ear aids in our balance. Within your ear, there are fluids in the semicircular canals. I believe that when you were hit by this curse, the fluids were inflamed. This internal damage is why you've been experiencing dizziness and nausea recently."

"But I only began feeling dizzy at my brother's wedding. That was several days after I lost my ear," George replied after a moment.

"When you're not moving, the fluids are not in motion. However as soon as you move, they shift. From what you've told me, I believe that you experienced nausea and dizziness at that moment because you were under attack and moving around rapidly. Also, I'm assuming there would have been a lot of loud noises. That can worsen the situation, as your ear is sensitive at the moment." Healer Gwellmyne finished.

George opened and closed his mouth several times before looking to Fred for help.

"Is there any cure? Anything to make George better?" Fred asked, half afraid to hear the answer.

"Well, it's difficult to say. Certainly, there are potions that can temporarily ease the nausea you feel, although only slightly, and the effect varies for each person. But in terms of a permanent cure or treatment, I'm afraid there is none."

Fred closed his eyes for a second before asking the question he had been dreading ever since he had first discovered George's problem.

"Is it going to get worse? It is serious, can it… can it be…" Fred couldn't say it, but the healer seemed to understand.

"Using the potions will cause a reliance on them. If you stop using it, the dizziness will be worse. In terms of it being life threatening…"

Both Fred and George held their breath.

"It is not," Healer Gwellmyne finished with a smile. The twins let out a simultaneous sigh of relief.

"However, there is a chance that your condition may worsen as time goes by." Fred's smile fell.

"Healer Gwellmyne? Can we have a few minutes alone to discuss all this?" George asked suddenly.

"Certainly," and with a small bow the Healer left the room. As soon as the door closed, George turned to Fred.

"So," he said.

"So," Fred repeated.

"It's permanent." George stated glumly. Fred sat down next to him.

"There are always the potions."

"Yeah, but I don't know whether I want to grow dependent on them. He said that if I stopped using them, it would be worse. _Worse_, Fred, I'm barely coping as it is now!" George swallowed. Fred looked at his brother, wishing they had received better news, wishing that they weren't in the situation to begin with.

"What do I do?" George moaned, burying his head in his hands. Fred wrapped an arm around George's shoulder and gave him a little shake.

"Hey. Whatever you do, I'm right here with you George. So is everyone else. You're not going to go through this alone," Fred said comfortingly. George sighed and stayed silent for several moments before raising his head from his hands.

"I suppose I'd better get those potions then," he said with a forced smile. Fred squeezed his shoulder tightly before letting go, his heart still heavy. Why did it all have to happen to George? It was bad enough that he lost his ear, but now this?

George moved to open the door, letting Healer Gwellmyne back in.

"So have you decided what to do?" the Healer asked. George nodded.

"I'll take the potion," he said. Healer Gwellmyne nodded, and handed George a piece of paper with writing on it.

"This is the one you'll need. You can buy it from most medical stores. I also need you to sign here…" Once George had filled out all the medical forms, they were free to go. Thanking Healer Gwellmyne, they left, George tucking the paper into his pocket. On the way out, they stopped to buy the potion Healer Gwellmyne had prescribed. George looked at the bottle of blue liquid distastefully.

"You gonna take it now?" Fred asked curiously. George shrugged.

"Do you think I should?"

"Well, we're going to be apparating soon, so yeah, probably," Fred said. George nodded, and after reading the instructions on the back took a small sip of the potion.

"Oh bleurgh!" he exclaimed, scrunching up his nose and holding his mouth open in disgust. Fred bit his lip hard to stop himself from laughing. Unfortunately he didn't bite it hard enough.

George glared at Fred, who was trying to stifle his laughter with his hand unsuccessfully.

"Sorry, sorry," Fred said, although the large grin he was still wearing lessened the impact of his words. George huffed and strode off, Fred trailing him, still giggling slightly. They exited St Mungo's and ended up back outside Purge and Dowse Ltd.

"So where to now? The Burrow?" Fred asked George, who hesitated before shaking his head.

"I… I don't really feel like breaking the news to mum and Ginny yet," he said tentatively. Fred nodded in understanding.

"So where?" He asked as they walked back to the alleyway.

George was quiet, before a small smile spread across his face.

"I think I know just the place," he said as he turned to Fred. The two exchanged a glance, and a look of realization spread across Fred's face. He nodded, smiling, and George reached out to grab his arm.

With a crack, they were gone.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading, and please review! :)<em>


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Gah, sorry this is a bit late guys. Life is slightly hectic right now. Anyway, this chapter is a bit of a… well, not so much filler, but more of a chance for Fred and George to just talk. Because talking is good, I think. So yes. As always, gigantic thank you to my reviewers: **chocolateMnMs**, **runeaglerun**, **MaddyGervais**, **TeZan** and **midnightstar19**. Your reviews mean more to me than you will ever know. And I hope the rest of you enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 4**

Fred and George arrived with a loud crack at their destination, George stumbling slightly. Fred grabbed his arm, holding him steady.

"How do you feel?" He asked, worried. George blinked, and gazed up at Fred before groaning.

"Guess the potion didn't work well, huh?" Fred asked sympathetically, helping George sit on the grassy floor. "Or do I just look particularly dashing today and you can't bear the competition?" George made a move to shake his head, instantly regretting it.

"Oh Godric," he muttered, hands clamped tightly over his forehead. Fred gripped his brother's shoulders sympathetically, ruffling George's hair gently.

"That bad?" He asked, forehead creased in concern.

"The nausea's gone," George commented feebly. "But the dizziness just got worse."

"Well do you prefer the dizziness or the nausea?" Fred asked, sitting down beside George, who groaned again.

"Neither!"

Fred chuckled, looking out at the scenery as he kept one hand on George's shoulders. Several minutes later, George was finally able to think without experiencing the uncomfortable sensation of drums pounding inside his head. He raised his head and looked out at the wide lake in front of them, surrounding by tall grass. Several birds flew overhead, and in the distance they could see mountains. Behind them loomed hundreds of tall trees.

"It's just as beautiful as I remember," George breathed deeply, a smile on his face.

"Yeah," Fred echoed, grinning as he recalled the last time they had visited. It had been many years ago, in the summer holidays just before the twins had started at Hogwarts. The entire Weasley family had gone camping, and Fred and George had fallen in love with the place immediately, with its gorgeous scenery and numerous hidings spots. Unfortunately they had never been able to visit again, but they had always sworn they would return one day. It seemed that day had finally arrived.

They stayed for some time, talking and reminiscing on their days at Hogwarts, past family holidays, all the pranks they had played. It was almost like old times, no war to think about, no injuries, and no deaths. Just Fred and George together, united as one. They watched the sun set over the lake, casting a magnificent reflection on the water.

"Fred?" George asked as the sky began to darken.

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever wish that none of this had happened? I mean, the war and You-Know-Who and everything?" George asked quietly.

Fred was silent for a moment. "I didn't use to. I always thought a final battle would be epic, you know? I mean, the good guys versing the bad guys, spells flying everywhere, it always seemed so cool. But now…people die in those battles, George. And not just the bad guys, good people as well. I mean, we've lost Sirius, Dumbledore, Mad Eye, your ear…"

George smiled at that, but nodded.

"It's not what I thought it would be," Fred finished. "So yes, I suppose I wish it hadn't happened. But it's not really up to us to decide that, is it? If none of that had happened, who knows, maybe we wouldn't be here today."

"Eurgh, the dreaded 'what if' situation," George muttered darkly. Fred chuckled.

"Well, what's got you in such a contemplative mood?" He asked. George shrugged.

"Oh you know, just thinking about life and death. Hypothetical scenarios just sort of came up," he said with a grin.

"George, you know you're not going to die right? The healer said it himself; it might get worse with time, but it's not life threatening in any way." Fred reminded George.

"Maybe it's not threatening in normal times, but during a war, it is." George declared.

"What? Why?"

"Fred, if we're attacked for some reason and I feel dizzy, I'm as good as dead," George said bluntly. "I can barely stand, let alone duel. And you'd be just as vulnerable, because you'd be trying to protect me. Face it, this- this condition I have, it's not ideal when we're in the middle of a war."

"We'll make it work," Fred said determinedly.

George was about to argue, but didn't, preferring not to ruin the otherwise peaceful location. Instead he sighed and lay back, staring up at the stars. A few moments later, he felt Fred do the same.

"Do you remember when dad taught us how to read the skies?" Fred asked after a moment's pause. George grinned.

"Yeah. We were so excited to find out about the Gemini constellation. Twins just like us," he reminisced.

"Yeah. Sometimes I wish we could go back to that time. When You-Know-Who was just a person of the past, and the biggest thing we had to worry about was whether Bill and Charlie would play Quidditch with us," Fred said sadly. George rolled over to face Fred, the moonlight reflected in his eyes.

"We should play a game of Quidditch when this all ends," he remarked.

"Yeah?" Fred asked with a raised eyebrow. George nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah. You, me, Bill, Charlie, Ron and Ginny. And maybe even Percy, Harry and Hermione. It would be brilliant!"

Fred laughed, before gazing thoughtfully at the darkened sky.

"You know, Mum and Ginny are probably wondering where we are," he said casually, but George understood the hint. With a reluctant sigh, he rose to his feet, Fred following suit.

"What do we tell them?" George asked worriedly.

"The truth," Fred replied. George bit his lip, sighing.

"They would have been expecting up back hours ago. Mum is going to blow," He groaned.

"Mum? Try Ginny!" Fred shot back.

"Can't we just… hide away for a little while?" George asked pathetically. Fred rolled his eyes, before grabbing George's hand.

"Come on, we've hidden long enough."

With a loud crack, they apparated to the Burrow, landing in the field just outside their house, beyond the wards. George dropped to his knees instantly, clutching his head.

"I think the potion wore off," he gasped. Fred knelt beside him quickly, holding George's shoulders.

"George, tell me what I can do," he said firmly. George shook his head slightly, his hand reaching forward blindly in the darkness to grip Fred.

"Just… just stay there," he panted through the nausea. Fred nodded, holding George close.

"Okay," he whispered, staying still. George rested his chin on Fred's shoulder, trying to slow down his breathing. Fred rubbed George's back reassuringly, occasionally murmuring words of comfort as George fought off the dizziness. Several long minutes later, George rose to his feet on unsteady legs, Fred still offering a supportive arm. The two slowly trudged to the Burrow, their pace due to George's near collapse, but also a feeling of dread that was beginning to creep in.

As it turned out, they had a good reason to be worried.

"Where have you _been_?" Molly screeched the moment she saw them. "St Mungo's should_ not_ take a whole day, I have been worried_ sick_!"

"Mum, we're sorr-"

"You couldn't even send an owl saying when you would be arriving? I have been staring out that window for the past four hours waiting for any sign of an owl and nothing! We are in the middle of a _war_, or did you forget about that? People are dying every day, it is a serious matter and I do NOT APPRECIATE YOU TWO WANDERING OFF WHENEVER YOU FEEL LIKE IT!" Molly's yells were causing the house to vibrate. George shot a glance at Fred, who was cringing. His own ears were protesting at the loud volume.

At that moment, George's breath hitched as he spotted Ginny walking down the stairs. The glare she shot him was enough to make him take a small step back towards Fred, who looked up.

"Oh Godric," Fred mumbled at the sight of their sister. They both turned back to Molly, who was still yelling, although she seemed to have lost some of her steam as she noticed that Fred was still half supporting George.

"What happened?" She asked worriedly, taking a step forward.

"It's just a headache," George replied with a faint smile, reminding them all of where he and Fred had been.

"What did you find out?" Molly finally asked. Fred and George exchanged glances, having a silent argument over who would be the one to speak. Eventually coming to an agreement, Fred stepped forward.

"The Healer said that there is some internal damage in George's ear," he began, and Molly hands rose to cover her mouth in horror. "But it's not life threatening or anything," he added hastily. "We got some potions for him to take, but they only seem to stop the nausea, not the dizziness."

"Isn't there anything else they can do?" Ginny asked from across the room. Fred shook his head.

"There's no permanent treatment. And- and the healer said that as time goes on, it might get worse," he added tentatively.

There was a tense silence, broken by a wail from Molly as she ran forward and wrapped her arms tightly around George.

"Mum!" He exclaimed in shock, face turning slightly blue as her grip tightened.

"Mum, you're strangling him!" Fred said in alarm. Molly let go, tears streaming down her face.

"Oh George," she said sadly. George offered her a smile.

"It's okay mum. I'm fine," he reassured her. She sniffed, before hurrying to the kitchen. Fred and George exchanged another glance.

"Well that went well," George said weakly.

"Oh really?" An angry voice sounded. Both Fred and George turned to where Ginny was still standing, arms folded, mouth forming a thin line.

"Ginny-"

"Do you two have any idea what it was like for us today? Your hands on the clock have been pointed at lost for more than half the day; we had no idea where you were." Ginny, unlike their mother, didn't yell. Instead her voice was low and dangerous, and about a hundred times more frightening. Both Fred and George were slowly backing away from her as she advanced.

"You could have been anywhere; you could have been kidnapped and tortured for all we knew. But no, as it turned out you were perfectly fine, just wandering around having a jolly old time. Well congratulation, I hope it was a day well spent," she said bitterly, storming back upstairs.

"Ginny, we're sorry!" Fred called out, and was rewarded with a door slam. He turned back to George, eyes wide.

"Women," Fred said, shaking his head.

"We should go talk to her," George said reluctantly.

"Talk to whom?" Molly asked as she bustled back into the room with cups of hot chocolate.

"Ginny."

"Oh, she's been worried sick about you two the whole day," Molly noted. Sighing, the twins grabbed the three cups and headed upstairs.

"Ginny?" George asked hesitantly as they stood outside her door.

"Go away," they heard her muffled response.

"Ginny, come on, let us in. We brought hot chocolate," Fred tried. A few seconds later, the door opened and Ginny was staring back at them, eyes hard. She walked back to her bed and huddled near the headboard, not saying a word. Fred and George shuffled awkwardly into the barely lit room, placing Ginny's cup on the table. George sat in the armchair while Fred took a seat at the foot of her bed.

"Ginny, we're really really sorry," George began. Ginny sniffed. "We didn't mean to make you and mum worry so much; I just needed to- to get away for a little while after hearing everything." Ginny glared at him, although they could both see her anger was leaving.

"We won't do it again," Fred promised, and was startled to see a tear slide down Ginny's cheek. "No- Gin, why are you crying? You never cry! Don't cry!" Fred panicked, moving forward to hug their sister. He could sense George hovering by his side.

"I'm sorry," Ginny sobbed into his shirt. "I was just so worried! I mean, Ron's gone off with Harry and Hermione, and Percy's still being an obnoxious git, and Bill's gone into hiding and Charlie's gone back to Romania, and I'm all alone here. You two are the only ones left, and I'm so afraid that something will ha-happen…" Whatever else she wanted to say was distorted by her sobs.

George moved to Ginny's other side, offering a comforting arm. Ginny clung to them both, still crying.

"Ginny, we promise nothing will happen to us," Fred whispered solemnly. Ginny blinked at him through her tears.

"You can't know that," she said, hiccoughing.

"Then we swear that we won't do anything that will put us in unnecessary danger," George amended. "Is that better?"

Ginny sniffled before nodding her head.

"You have to send me letters every week at Hogwarts," she warned them.

"We promise."

"We'll even send some of our products just so you know it's from us," Fred added with a grin. Ginny smiled at him.

"I love you both, you know?" She said, hugging them tightly.

"We love you too, Ginny," George said softly. Fred kissed the crown of her head, exchanging a glance with George.

"Always will."

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: the Weasley's get a visit from the Ministry. Also, George discovers that he and Floo Powder don't get along anymore. <em>

_Thanks for reading, and please review! :)_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Massive thanks as always to my lovely reviewers; **Dimcairien**, **runeaglerun, MaddyGervais**, **chocolateMnMs, midnightstar19 **and **Carkey**. I'm really glad you guys seem to be enjoying this, and thanks so much for all the feedback. Well, I don't really have anything about this chapter except that it took several tries to get out before I ended up with this. And then it ended up being longer than all the other chapters. Which I find weird. So I hope it seems, to quote James Phelps, "borderline believable if you use your imagination."

**Chapter 5**

For the next few days, Fred and George remained at the Burrow, as a sort of apology to Molly and Ginny. Both were extremely pleased; Molly because she could keep an eye on them and reassure herself that they were safe, and Ginny because she finally had company at home. They would often pass the day playing games of exploding snap, testing out inventions, and hiding from Molly when she was in a cleaning mood.

Even once they had returned to their flat, the twins would often spend their days at the Burrow, leaving Verity to mind the shop. In the process, George tried travelling by Floo powder for the first time since he had lost his ear. The experience hadn't gone well; George had felt sick half way through and ended up accidentally falling onto the Lovegood's living room floor, feeling woozy and nauseous. Without Fred there, it took him longer to recover, and Luna's attempt to wrap a wreath around his head "to fight off the wrackspurts" didn't help. It was with a great deal of trepidation that George walked back to the Burrow. For a good reason too; as soon as he saw George approaching, Fred flew out the door and pounced on George, alternating between berating himself, scolding George, and checking him over for injuries.

"Do you know how worried I was you stupid git?"

"Fred, I'm fine."

"I can't believe I was so stupid to let you go on your own-"

"Fred, it's okay!"

"Are you alright? Do you feel sick? Do you need to lie down? I knew we should have apparated…"

Needless to say, George didn't try using Floo powder again.

Ginny's birthday came and passed, and although it was only a small gathering, the love shared by the occupants in the room was enough to make it a memorable day. Fred and George made sure of this, setting off a dozen fireworks into the night sky which formed the words 'Happy Birthday Ginny'. The exuberant hugs they had received made the pounding in George's head worth it.

A few days after Ginny's birthday however, they finally received a visit from the Ministry Officials.

Representatives of the _new_ ministry, that was. The ministry which had apparently adopted something similar to Voldemort's ideology. Fred, who had never had much respect for authority to begin with, felt quite proud of himself that he hadn't immediately slammed the door in their faces.

"How can we help you?" He asked, faking a smile. The first man, evidently the leader, stared him up and down, lip curled. He opened his mouth to answer just as George came to the door. All three men's eyes widened as they took in the twins, who to the untrained eye were completely identical.

"We're looking for the Weasley family," one of them- the one with a moustache- eventually replied.

"Mum!" George shouted, not taking his eyes off the men. "We've got visitors!"

Molly came bustling to the door. "Who are they- oh!" Her own eyes widened for a moment before she put on her friendly persona.

"Please, come in," she said kindly. Fred and George reluctantly stepped away from the door, allowing the three men into the Burrow. She ushered them to the living room, where the couches were. As the men sat down, Ginny joined the twins.

"Who are they?" She whispered.

"Remember how Dad said the ministry would come check up on us?" Fred whispered back. Ginny nodded in understanding. The three of them sat down opposite the Ministry officials, leaving space for their mother, who came in moments later with a tray of tea.

"What can we do for you?" She asked as she served them and sat down.

The second man, who was still wearing a bowler hat, looked at the others before clearing his throat.

"We're just here to check on a few… details," he said in a whiny voice. Fred and George both cringed.

"Firstly, would you please state your names for the record?"

"Well, I'm Molly. Molly Weasley, and these are my children George, Fred and Ginny." Molly said as she pointed to each Weasley respectively.

"I believe you have several other children?" Mr Moustache (as Fred mentally named him) asked while Bowler Hat Man (that was George's mental labelling) scribbled wildly on a scroll of parchment.

"Yes, my eldest, Bill, just got married. My second eldest, Charlie, is in Romania. My third, Percy…" If the three men noticed the sudden tension in the room, they didn't mention it. "…he's working at the ministry. And my second youngest, Ron, is upstairs with spattergroit." She finished.

"Spattergroit you say? Mister _Ronald_ Weasley?" The third man had finally spoken, head raised in interest. Ginny dubbed him Cruel Eyes as his gaze lingered over her and her brothers.

"Yes, that's right," Molly said uncertainly.

"I don't suppose my colleagues could see him?" He asked, his tone more of a demand than a request. Molly hesitated for a moment before plastering a smile on her face.

"Of course, right this way," she said as she stood up, leading Mr Moustache and Bowler Hat Man with her upstairs. Fred, George and Ginny remained seated, staring at Cruel Eyes who was still sitting across from them. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, still scribbling on his parchment.

"Have you recently been in contact with anyone outside of your family?" He suddenly asked. George looked at him wearily.

"Umm, I suppose close friends," he said hesitantly.

"How about persons such as… Remus Lupin?" Cruel Eyes asked smoothly, eyeing them carefully for a reaction. Fred, George and Ginny's faces remained passive, although Ginny's leg twitched slightly in surprise.

"Lupin?" Fred mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Lupin… I recognise that name somewhere…"

"Oh, he was our defence against the darks arts teacher at Hogwarts in our fifth year," George reminded him.

"Oh, that's right. He was a good teacher," Fred said reminiscently.

"Mr Lupin is a werewolf," Cruel Eyes said, his tone one of disgust. "Werewolves are enemies of the state."

"Oh, is that right?" George asked. "Never knew about that."

Cruel Eyes looked rather frustrated at George's lack of concern.

"So you do know him?" He asked, quill poised.

"Well, we haven't seen him since our fifth year. Does that classify as knowing?" George asked innocently. Cruel Eyes paused for second, eyes scanning his parchment.

"What about Kingsley Shacklebolt?" He asked. This time it was Fred's foot that twitched.

"Who?" He asked, leaning forward.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," Cruel Eyes repeated slowly. Fred considered this for a second.

"Never heard of him," he said, leaning back. "Have you, George?"

George shook his head. "No clue who he is. Should we know him?"

Cruel Eyes' jaw twitched slightly, but he remained calm, eyes scanning the list before him.

"Right. What about… Alastor Moody?" He asked carefully. Fred's hand curled into a fist by his side; next to him, Ginny was struggling to remain calm. George shifted his leg slightly so it rested against Fred's as both a source of comfort and a sign of warning, trying to calm his brother down. Fred took a deep breath as George spoke.

"He was our teacher in sixth grade. Or at least I think it was him, there were some rumours going around later that it wasn't actually him. Other than that, we've only seen him around at random places. Don't really know him though," George said, shrugging, careful not to refer to Mad Eye in past tense. Cruel Eyes wrote this down with a scowl, evidently annoyed that they had not given anything away.

"I understand that your family is quite close to a certain Mr Harry Potter. Have you seen him recently?" Cruel Eyes asked.

"No, haven't seen him since… Dumbledore's funeral I think it was," Fred said vaguely as he gripped Ginny's hand; she looked as though she would very much like to curse the man.

"As you know, he's a wanted fugitive. If you were to see him, you would be required to alert the ministry immediately or else face imprisonment." Cruel eyes said, eyes flickering between the three siblings.

"Of course," George replied, eyes hardened.

At that moment, Molly came downstairs followed by the two men, both who looked rather disgusted.

"He's definitely got spattergroit," Mr Moustache mumbled, scrunching his nose up. Bowler Hat Man nodded in assent.

"Yes well, dear Ron has always been prone to getting sick," Fred said sadly. Ginny disguised her giggle as a cough; out of everyone in the room, Ron was the least likely to catch a bacterial infection. Their mother always claimed he had a strong immune system. George said it was because Ron _was_ a germ. He'd gotten a good wallop for that.

"Well, is there anything else you'd like to know?" Molly asked. Evidently she too had been interrogated upstairs. The men exchanged a glance before turning to George.

"Just one," Mr Moustache said. "How did you come to lose your ear?"

A silence fell over the room, so quiet that they could hear the birds chirping outside. George swallowed, his eyes sliding over to look at Fred, who was glaring murderously at Mr Moustache.

"It was an accident," George said. "My brother and I work at a joke shop you see, and one of our inventions went a bit wrong."

"And it sliced your ear off?" Cruel Eyes asked, his eyebrows raised disbelievingly.

"Oh yes. One of our duelling wands. Very dangerous things if not handled carefully, as we found out," Fred said. George breathed a sigh of relief that Fred was playing along rather than causing the men serious damage, as he seemed to want to do.

"I see," Bowler Hat Man said, looking worried but not too suspicious.

"The reason we ask is that we received rumours that an enemy of the Ministry recently received a physical head injury from a curse," Cruel Eyes stated, eyeing them distrustfully.

"Hey George, that means you might not the only one out there with only one ear!" Fred said, faking joviality as he nudged George.

"So you're sure it wasn't you?" Mr Moustache asked.

"Oh no. Duelling wand, remember?" George asked as he pointed to his ear- or rather, missing ear.

"We can show you if you want," Fred said, grinning somewhat evilly.

"Err… no, no, that won't be necessary," Mr Moustache said hastily as he got to his feet. The other two followed suit.

"Well, thank you for your hospitality," Bowler Hat Man said as they left through the door. Molly closed the door, turning back to her three children who were all standing with their arms crossed.

Unsurprisingly, Fred was the first to speak.

"Those gits!" He exploded. "How dare they come into our house and interrogate us like that!"

"They know about Mad Eye," Ginny said worriedly as she moved to stand beside Molly. "They must have found his body."

"And questioning George about his ear like that! An 'enemy of the ministry'? I'll show them who's an enemy of the ministry." Fred all but growled as he paced the room.

"And Remus" Ginny burst out, apparently deciding to join Fred in his rant. "Just because he's a werewolf he becomes an enemy of the state?"

"Not to mention Harry. He's already got enough with You Know Who on his back and now this!" Fred snarled, clenching his fists tightly. It was at this point that George decided to intervene.

"Fred," he said quietly, approaching his pacing twin. "Calm down."

Fred's eyes flashed as he turned to George. "_Calm down_? Did you not _hear_ what they were saying George?"

"I heard them. They wanted us to hear them, they were trying to get a rise out of us, trying to provoke us," George reminded him.

"Yeah, well, it's working." Fred snapped, turning around and beginning his pacing again.

"Fred." George stepped closer to Fred until he was standing just in front of him. "They want you to do something stupid. Don't let them win."

"How do you know I'm planning on doing something stupid?" Fred asked angrily. George raised an eyebrow at him, and a few seconds later Fred's face broke into a reluctant smile. His anger abated at quickly as it had appeared, as was Fred's way.

"Well, at least it's over," he said with a sigh.

"Mum, any chance we can get lunch?" George asked. Molly, slightly startled, nodded.

"Of course dear, I'll start it right now," she said as she bustled into the kitchen. Fred slumped back onto the now vacated couch, George dropping next to him. They both turned to look at Ginny, who was still standing across the room.

"I hate this stupid war," she said quietly as she came and sat next to George. Fred hummed in agreement, and the three were lost in their thoughts until Molly called them for lunch.

Later that night, as both twins lay in bed listening to the quiet street outside, George could feel a flicker of doubt beginning to rise in his chest. Frowning slightly, he tossed to his other side, trying to force the doubt out of his mind.

"George?" He heard Fred mutter tiredly. "You awake?"

"Yeah," George replied a few moments later.

"What's wrong?" Fred asked.

"Nothing."

"I know something's wrong, George. You've been tossing for the past ten minutes. Is it your ear?" George sighed, wondering why he even bothered trying to lie to Fred.

"No, my ear's fine. It's just… what you said before, about how everyone's against us. We've got Death Eaters and You Know Who on one side, and then we've got the Ministry on the other side. It's like we're trapped between these two evil forces with no way out. How can we possibly win this war?" He asked, cursing at the feebleness of his question. He heard Fred breathing softly across the room.

"I know what you mean," Fred finally said, and George was somewhat pleased that Fred's voice was vulnerable, that he wasn't the only one with fears and doubts. "Sometimes I wonder if we ever had a chance."

George's breath caught in his throat, the feeling of doubt almost overwhelming.

"But do you remember what Dumbledore once told us? He said that we would have to make a choice between doing what is easy and what is right. And in the end, what we're fighting for… it's right. It may not be easy. But it's right."

George was silent for a moment, taking in this surprising piece of wisdom.

"I never knew you listened to Dumbledore's speeches," he said finally.

"Yeah well… sometimes I do things that surprise myself," Fred said, and although George couldn't see his face, he could hear that Fred was smiling.

"Fighting for what's right," George murmured as he closed his eyes.

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><p><em>Next chapter: Fred's having trouble dealing with George's condition.<em>

_Thanks for reading, and please review! :)_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Early update :) Just because you guys have been so great with reviews, I decided to post this chapter up early. It's kind of different to the previous chapters, I think. I just sat down and it kind of wrote itself, so I'm not sure how well it flows with the rest of the story, but hopefully it fits and everything. As always, a MASSIVE thank you to everyone who reviewed: **runeaglerun**, **snitch-bewitch**, **MaddyGervais**, **midnightstar19**, **Dimcairien**, **Carkey**, **chocolateMnMs** and** ncis-lady**. You guys are so great, I _cannot_ thank you enough for your support. I hope you all enjoy this!

**Chapter 6**

For the next few weeks, everything was almost back to normal. As their visits to the Burrow grew less frequent, Fred and George established a normal routine which only required them to leave their flat or the shop when necessary, and even then it was usually Fred. George still had the potions in his possession, however whenever he apparated he would still experience an overwhelming sense of dizziness, and as a result Fred was the one who was in charge of travelling outside via magical means except on special occasions, such as when they went to Kings Cross Station to see Ginny off.

One night however, George woke up for no apparent reason. Disgruntled at the interruption of his sleep, he turned onto his other side and was in the process of closing his eyes when he realised that Fred's breathing across the room was irregular and fast. Opening one eye blearily, George sat up, yawning.

"Fred?" He asked quietly, his heart rate increasing slightly, his other eye opening. There was no answer, but Fred tossed almost violently under his covers. George scrambled out of his bed and crossed the room to Fred's bed, more than a little concerned.

"Fred," he repeated, this time louder. Fred's breath hitched, and from where George was standing he could see that Fred's knuckles were white as he gripped his blanket tightly. Alarmed, George sat down on the edge of Fred's bed and shook his shoulders.

"Fred, wake up!" He said loudly. With a sudden gasp, Fred shot up, eyed wide.

"No!" He yelled, breathing heavily.

"Fred, it's okay, it was just a dream!" George exclaimed quickly, his hands still gripping Fred's shoulder tightly. Fred turned to him, almost unconsciously reaching out to grab George's arms.

"George?" He asked, voice sounding incredibly young and vulnerable.

"Yeah, it's me Freddie," George said gently, lifting one hand to stroke Fred's hair soothingly, as their mother used to do when they were younger. With a slight sob, Fred wrapped his arms around George, burying his head into the crook of George's neck.

"Oh God," he mumbled, and George could feel a distinct wetness against his neck. He wrapped his own arms around Fred, rubbing Fred's back comfortingly as Fred cried into his neck. George didn't press for any information, knowing that when Fred wanted to talk, he would. Instead, he offered his support in the best way the twins knew how, by shutting up, sitting still and offering a comforting shoulder. George almost unconsciously began rocking Fred back and forth as a mother would do to calm her crying child, and for some bizarre reason it seemed to work; Fred's sobs died down, his tears ceasing.

"That must have been some dream," George commented lightly as Fred eventually pulled away. Neither twin had woken up crying from a dream since they were eight. Fred sat back, scrubbing his face with his hands in a vain attempt to hide the tear tracks.

"You- you have no idea," he said weakly. George sat patiently, crossing his legs. After a few moments, Fred seemed ready to share.

"I was… well I don't know where I had been, but I was coming back to the shop," he began, and George felt a shiver run down his spine. "It was raining, thundering, and I was nearly there when I- I looked up and I saw… I saw the dark mark over the shop."

George winced, now having a vague idea of where Fred's dream was going.

"So I ran inside the shop and it… it was a complete mess. I mean, everything was on the floor, the windows were shattered, the shelves were broken; all our work was completely ruined. But I couldn't find you anywhere. I ran upstairs to our flat, and it was completely trashed, but then I saw that the bedroom door was slightly ajar, and I walked over and opened the door and-" Fred's voice cut out for a second, his eyes closed as he recalled the painful image.

"And you were lying there. And there was blood everywhere, on you, on the floor… I ran forward and you looked at me and you tried to speak but all you could do was cough, and there was blood coming out of your mouth. There was so much damn blood!" Fred gripped his hair, pulling his knees up to his chest. When he next spoke, his voice was slightly muffled.

"I tried to help you, but suddenly someone grabbed me and started pulling me away, and I was yelling at them not to, trying to make them let me go, but they kept pulling me, taking me away from you," Fred finished, a lone tear trailing down his cheek as he looked up. George sat silently for a moment, still trying to process everything Fred had just told him. A second later, he leant over and wiped away the tear with his thumb.

"Hey," he said gently, trying to make Fred look him in the eyes. "Fred, it was just a dream."

"Yeah but George, it could happen! Every time I leave you alone, I'm almost too scared to come back because that could be what I find!" Fred burst out.

"Fred, we have wards in place-" George tried but Fred interrupted.

"Death eaters can get through those wards and you know it George," he said firmly. George sighed.

"Fred, you can't keep worrying about things like this. You're beginning to sound worse than mum, you know," he said. Fred looked shocked.

"Take that back!" He demanded, but George refused, shaking his head.

"Nope. It's true."

"I suppose I am over reacting a little?" Fred asked quietly after a moment's hesitation. George nodded solemnly.

"But that's okay," George replied just as quietly. A silence fell over the two before George got up and walked to the other side of Fred's bed.

"Budge up," he said, and Fred scooted over as George settled himself under the sheets.

"You don't have to-" Fred began.

"I know." George said simply before letting his head hit the pillow. Fred did the same with a small smile, covering them both with the blankets.

"G'nite George," he said quietly.

"It'll look better in the morning, Fred," George said comfortingly. Fred murmured in a vague acknowledgement of this, but nevertheless his hand instinctually moved to grip George's wrist, directly over the spot where his pulse was. George didn't complain, instead letting his eyes close and the sound of Fred's breathing lull him to sleep.

By the next morning, Fred appeared to have recovered from his dream. He was back to his normal mood in any case, and George felt a sense of relief. However as the days passed, he realised Fred was anything but normal.

Every few days Fred would have to leave the flat alone, whether it be to grab food, ingredients for their inventions or to visit the Burrow (although for these trips, George would usually accompany him). However George soon noticed that the time taken for these individual trips had begun to decrease. What used to be a half hour shopping trip would now take less than ten minutes.

Furthermore, whenever Fred returned he would be breathing heavily, as though he had been rushing, and it was only once he laid eyes on George that his heart rate slowed down, his eyes shining in relief, although he never said anything about it.

George was not used to this quieter, solemn, constantly worried Fred. For as long as he could remember, Fred had been the careless one who would jump into a situation before looking, and deal with the consequences later. Not that George was much better. But now, Fred was cautious to the point of being paranoid, always stressed, and always tense. In other words, Fred was not acting like Fred anymore, and George could feel the concern building inside of him.

Even Fred's sleep was interrupted by constant nightmares. Every night, George would hear him sit up in bed with a gasp, his breathing shallow. In the beginning George would hear Fred turn onto his other side and try to go back to sleep, however judging by the growing bags under his eyes, this was unsuccessful.

After one week, during which the nightmares grew more consistent and evidently worse, Fred would often creep out of his own bed and sit on the edge of George's, staring at him, trying to reassure himself that whatever happened in his nightmares wasn't real. George, who would always be awake by this time, would pull back the covers and shuffle over, making room for Fred. And every morning, George would find Fred nestled into his side, his hand always curled around George's wrist right above his pulse point.

George didn't really mind the interruptions to his sleep. He would often wake up anyway when his ear was uncomfortable. What did worry him was that Fred's health was being affected by this constant worry. It wasn't healthy to be so concerned all the time and George knew Fred was suffering. Eventually, he decided that they needed to talk.

"Fred," he began one night as they were preparing to go to bed. Fred, who was brushing his teeth, looked up.

"This has to stop." George said firmly. Fred spat into the sink, rinsed out his mouth and turned to George.

"What has to stop?" He asked innocently, but they both knew that Fred knew exactly what George meant.

"This," George said, brandishing his arms. "Everything! The worrying, the rushing back home, the nightmares."

Fred shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, I'll sleep in my bed tonight," he mumbled, looking down at his feet. George shook his head.

"That's not the problem, Fred. The problem is that you are worrying _way_ too much about me. Every time you go out without me, you're back in less than ten minutes! You barely socialise with anyone when you're alone, you just come straight back!"

"I can't help it!" Fred exclaimed sadly. "George, every time I leave, there's a chance that you won't be here when I get back. The longer I'm away, the higher that chance gets!"

"And Fred, every time _you_ leave there's a chance that _you_ won't come back," George reminded him. "But I don't think about that, and you shouldn't either, it's not healthy!"

"I can't help it," Fred repeated hopelessly. George sighed.

"I know. Which is why I decided that from now on, I'm going to come with you," he said determinedly. Fred's eyes widened.

"What? No, George, you can't. Your head-"

"My head, however bad the dizziness gets, is not going to kill me. Seeing you stressing out so much might!"

"George-"

"Fred, I've had a lot of time to think about this," George said seriously. "And I've made up my mind."

Fred looked at George for a few moments before reluctantly nodding his head, knowing that arguing would be futile. "Ok," he muttered quietly. George shot him a satisfied grin.

"Good. Now come on, it's getting late."

The two walked to their beds and sat down, facing each other across the room. There was a silence as they both considered what to say.

"Fred-" George began.

"George-" Fred said at the same time. They both laughed, effectively breaking the tension.

"George, are you _sure_ you want to do this?" Fred asked seriously.

"Yes." George replied simply. Fred nodded silently. "Well, come on," George said randomly.

"Come on what?" Fred asked, confused.

"I'd like to get a proper night's sleep for once, and we both know that's not going to happen if you're sleeping in your own bed. So come on," George repeated, lifting up the covers. Fred scrambled off his bed and crossed the room to join George.

"You know, you should get a bigger bed," Fred commented as he squished into George's bed, accidentally elbowing George in the ribs.

"Or you could just stop having nightmares," George replied, squirming over to get comfortable, 'accidentally' kicking Fred in retaliation.

"Well yes, but where would be the fun in that?"

George whacked Fred's head lightly with a pillow.

A silence fell over the occupants, broken only by their steady breathing. George was on the verge of falling asleep when he felt Fred's hand gently rest on his wrist, over his pulse as always. He opened an eye and saw Fred was smiling slightly, eyes closed, looking peaceful for once. George closed his eye, feeling a smile grace his own lips as he fell asleep.

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><p><em>Next chapter: An attack at Diagon Alley leaves one twin in a bad condition and the other in a world of emotional turmoil. <em>

_Thanks very much for reading, and please review! :)_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Wow. The response I got for the last chapter was just… wow. I guess you guys did like it after all! GIGANTIC thanks to everyone who reviewed: **ncis-lady**, **Linda**, **Moonlight900**, **Dimcairien**, **chocolateMnMs**, **Aris1013**, **MaddyGervais **(thank you so much, I absolutely _loved_ your review, it was so nice), **midnightstar19**, **runeaglerun**, **Carkey, **and . I cannot thank any of you enough, your feedback just completely made my day. Thank you _so_ much. I'm posting this chapter early as a way of showing my appreciation. I hope it lives up to expectations!

**Chapter 7**

True to his word, George began accompanying Fred outside. At first it had been painful, having to apparate into side alleys so that George wouldn't collapse in the middle of the street. But as the weeks passed, George found that he began to grow used to the dizziness and nausea, and it took him less time to recover.

Fred was delighted at this, believing it to be a positive sign, and George was inclined to agree. Life was going quite well for the twins considering their situation; their family was still safe (apart from Ron, who they hadn't heard from since the wedding), and while their shop was only open on certain days of the week, they still received several tentative customers every day. They had also invented several more creations which they were sure would be a big hit once the war was over.

Of course the peace was too good to last.

It was night. Just a random night in early October, no special date, no special occasion. Fred and George were strolling down Diagon Alley, heading back to their flat, having left to get some fresh air after dinner. For once there were other people outside as well; there hadn't been an attack in a long time, and people were beginning to grow less cautious.

They probably should have guessed.

As they were walking, George felt a slight tingle down his spine. At any other time, he would have ignored it, blaming the weather. But they were in the middle of a war. Small details could mean the difference between life and death. He shot a look at Fred, who had apparently felt the same uneasiness. Together they slowly pulled out their wands from their pockets, coming to a halt shoulder to shoulder.

All of a sudden there was a loud explosion from a shop down the street. Startled, Fred and George spun around in time to see a large fireball soar into the air.

"Move!" George yelled, as both he and Fred darted across the street away from the fireball. A few seconds later it hit a building, causing an explosion of flames. Clouds of dust fell over the street as people began running outside, screaming in terror.

Through the dust George could make out several figures dressed in cloaks and wearing masks approaching, and he felt dread creep through his stomach.

"Death Eaters," he muttered. Fred, still by his side, nodded wordlessly. They were both recalling what had happened the last time they had faced a Death Eater attack. At that moment George felt the same dizziness he had experienced at the reception hit him, although with less force. Gasping slightly, he aimed a curse at the Death Eater closest to him. The Death Eater fell down immediately, sprouting vicious looking boils. George dodged to his left, narrowly missing an unforgiveable curse aimed at him. Looking around, he realised that Fred was no longer by his side.

"Fred?" George called out, trying to see his brother through all the dust and spells flying through the air.

"George!" He heard a faint cry from nearby, but he still couldn't see Fred. A Death Eater appeared in front of George, leering menacingly.

"Stupefy!" George yelled out, trying to ignore the pain in his head. The Death Eater he had aimed at collapsed immediately, however a second Death Eater was looming behind him, wand pointed directly at George.

"Stupef-"

"Protego!"

George whirled around in time to see Fred cast a protective shield around George, blocking the spell about to hit him. It bounced off harmlessly, leaving both Fred and George slightly breathless at the close call. George's eyes widened as he looked over Fred's shoulder and spotted an advancing Death Eater; Fred, seeing the look, ducked immediately and George shot a spell, stopping the Death Eater in his tracks. Breathing heavily, Fred stumbled over to where George was standing.

"Thanks," he gasped out. George nodded but didn't say anything, the muffled noises growing louder in his ear. He could also feel the nausea beginning to rise in his stomach but he swallowed and ignored it. The two headed towards the nearest shop, trying to get out of the line of fire. Around them, there were several witches and wizards attempting to fight, but the majority were running away. Crowing, one of the death eaters aimed his wand and a nearby shop was blown to smithereens.

Fred and George were both thrown back from the force, landing painfully several feet apart. Breathing hard, coughing as he tried to clear his throat of the dust and debris, Fred struggled to get to his feet, groping for his wand. Ignoring the severe pain in his wrist, he ran over to where George was still lying down, his hands clasped weakly over his ears.

"George? George!" He yelled urgently. George turned towards Fred with a pained expression.

"George, what is it?" Fred asked immediately, kneeling beside George. There were several cuts on George's face, but Fred couldn't see any physical injuries that would cause the amount of pain George appeared to be experiencing.

"It's everything. Fred, everything's worse, I-" whatever he had intended to say was cut off by a choked gasp of pain. Fred frantically grasped at George's shoulders, hands darting uncertainly, unsure whether he should try and move George or not.

His mind was made up when there was another loud explosion nearby, raining the twins with wood and glass shards. Fred instantly used his own body to protect George's from the flying debris, wincing as several pieces caught him around the head. Lifting his head as it finally stopped, Fred's eyes widened as he saw two Death Eaters slowly approaching him, their wands raised. Without a second thought, Fred grasped George's arm tightly and disapparated with a loud crack.

Fred blinked as the sound of waves crashing reached his ears. He could barely see beyond a metre in front of him, it was so dark, but he could clearly feel George's body in his arms, hear George's raspy, pain-filled breathing, sense his twin's agony.

"Bill!" Fred shouted roughly into the darkness. He felt George stir slightly under his hand.

"Fred?"

"Yeah, I'm here George," Fred said, squinting through the darkness until he could finally see George's pale face. "I'm right here."

"Fred, I don't- I don't think-"

"Hey, you're going to be _fine_, you hear me George? Saint-like, remember? We're going to patch you up and you'll be good as new," Fred said firmly. George didn't reply, instead rolling over and emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground weakly.

"Fred…" He said feebly, turning back to his brother.

"No, don't do this George. Don't you dare, you stay with me, okay? BILL!" Fred roared, his breathing quickening. Nearby he could hear voices, one male, and one female. They seemed to be approaching, but Fred could barely hear what they were saying.

"George. George?" Fred asked frantically when he didn't get a response. "George, come _on_," he pleaded desperately. "George. Hey, hey, do you remember when we were nine and I fell off my broom?" He asked. It took a few moments, but he eventually felt George nod weakly.

"Was… terrified," George gasped out through the pain. Fred nodded, struggling to hold back tears.

"Yeah. Yeah well, that's exactly how you're making me feel right now, George," he replied, voice shaking slightly.

"Sor-sorry."

"You should be. But I'll forgive you George; I promise I'll forgive you if you stay awake, okay?"

Before Fred could elicit a reply from his brother, a beam of light fell across his face, temporarily blinding him.

"What- Fred?_ George_?" He heard a voice cry out in worry.

"Bill," he sighed, feeling relief rush over him. Bill would help. Bill would make it better.

"Fred, what happened?" Bill asked, shocked at the condition his younger brothers were in.

"Death Eater attack. Bill, George, he-" Fred's voice broke off, but Bill seemed to understand. Kneeling, he carefully lifted George into his arms, taking care not to jostle George too much. Fred rose to his feet shakily.

"Be careful," he said, voice trembling as he saw George's pale face properly for the first time, lit up by Fleur's wand. George's freckles stood out against his pale skin, his eyes closed, face twisted in pain. Nodding, Bill began walking towards their cottage. Fleur gently took Fred's arm and he automatically followed her, head reeling from the events that had just transpired.

Bill and Fleur's cottage was small but homely. However Fred barely noticed any of this, his mind focus on only one thing.

George.

He watched silently as Bill gently deposited the now unconscious George onto a couch and began removing his jacket.

"Fred, what happened? What's wrong with George?" Bill asked urgently. Fred, who had been gazing at George's limp form, making sure George was still breathing, jerked his head at the sound of his name.

"What? Oh… we found out a few months ago that when George lost his ear, the curse Snape used caused some internal damage. He was feeling really dizzy and sick whenever we travelled anywhere, but lately he seemed okay. But then tonight- there was a Death Eater attack at Diagon Alley. We were just walking, but then there were spells flying everywhere, and buildings were exploding, and-" Fred closed his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of the screams still echoing in his mind, trying to block out the image of George lying motionless on the ground.

"And what, Fred?" Bill asked, his tone unusually harsh. Fleur, standing beside Fred, shifted slightly and gave her husband a pointed look.

"Bill, Fred 'as 'ad a lot 'appen to him-" Fleur began, but Bill interrupted her.

"I know, Fleur, but this is important. Fred, you need to tell us exactly what happened to leave George like this," Bill said, gesturing towards the still form on the couch. Fred, to his horror, could feel tears of frustration welling in his eyes.

"I don't know!" He burst out. "There was an explosion nearby, and we were both thrown back, and when I got up George was like this."

"Was he hit by a spell?" Bill pressed relentlessly.

"I- no, I don't think so. I don't know," he said helplessly, shrugging his shoulders. "But I don't think so; I think it was just the explosion. Maybe it- maybe it was too much for his ear?"

Bill looked searchingly at Fred for a moment before turning to Fleur.

"Can you-" he began but Fleur was already kneeling at George's side, her wand out as she murmured a stream of healing spells. Bill nodded as he turned to Fred, his own wand out. "Sit down," he said quietly, steering Fred into the nearest chair.

"But George-"

"If what you say is true and George didn't get hit by a spell, then there's nothing we can do apart from keeping him comfortable and wait for him to wake up," Bill said firmly but gently. "Now sit."

Fred protested for several minutes before finally caving in, and if it had been anyone but Bill (or possibly Charlie), he would have refused. Eventually, Fred reluctantly sat in the armchair, resting his head back for a moment. Now that they had escaped and he knew George was in safe hands, he could feel the adrenaline wearing off, leaving him exhausted and feeling thoroughly battered. He felt Bill ruffle his hair gently.

"Don't wanna sleep," Fred murmured automatically, refusing to let his eyes close despite their best efforts. Bill chuckled.

"I'm not going to make you sleep, Fred. I need to heal your wounds." Fred eyes opened properly at this statement.

"I don't have any wounds," he said, confused. Bill raised an eyebrow.

"I take it you haven't looked in a mirror recently. Well, I hate to break it to you Fred, but you're more scarred than I am right now," he said with a slight grin. Fred, slightly alarmed, raised a hand to his face. Sure enough, he could feel many scratches adorning his face and scalp, some shallow, others deeper. Bringing his hand down, he could see that it too was scarred, and stained with blood. He winced suddenly as his wrist twinged painfully again.

"And your wrist is sprained, if not broken," Bill said with a frown, gently picking it up. Fred couldn't hold back his gasp of pain.

"Sorry," Bill apologised as he examined Fred's wrist closely. "Mmm, definitely sprained," he mused as he pulled out his wand. Resting it gently over Fred's wrist, he murmured a few words and Fred instantly felt the pain begin to fade. Bill crossed the room to grab strips of cloth, which he used to bandage Fred's wrist.

"It should be fine in a few days, but don't put any unnecessary strain on it," he said warningly. Fred nodded mutely, eyes flickering over to George, who was still unconscious, although his face was no longer as pale as it had been, and the few cuts previously adorning it had vanished. Fleur was still hovering over him, trying to get him to drink some water. Bill shook his head, seeing that he had lost Fred's attention, and began the slow process of healing and cleaning each of Fred's wounds.

Nearly an hour later, Bill was finally done. By this time Fred was half asleep, his head lolling forward onto his chest.

"Fred?" Bill prompted gently. Fred's head shot up, his eyes bleary.

"George?" He asked groggily, blinking.

"No, Bill."

"How's George?" Fred asked as he scrambled to his feet and approached the couch George was on.

"'E is resting," Fleur told him quietly as she too stood up, glancing at Bill. "I did all zat I could." Bill offered her a tender smile as he pulled her into his arms. The two watched as Fred cautiously knelt by George's side, taking George's hand in his own.

"Fred, we have a spare bedroom upstairs. Do you-" Bill didn't even bother continuing as Fred shook his head.

"No. No, I'll stay here with George," Fred said quietly.

"Alright, we'll bring you some blankets and spare pillows," Bill replied. Fred looked up suddenly, eyes suspiciously bright.

"Thank you. Both of you. I'm sorry, I know this has put you in a dangerous position, but this was the first place I could think of. If the Death Eaters recognised us, the first place they would go would be Mum and Dad's. I'm sorry," he repeated. Bill gently let go of Fleur and pulled his younger brother into his arms.

"Don't apologise, Fred. We're family. That's what families do. And if you ever need help, we're always here for you," he said firmly. Fred buried his face into Bill's shoulder for a moment, and Bill was quite sure that Fred was attempting to compose himself. A few seconds later, he pulled away and flashed Bill a small smile.

"I'd hug Fleur, but I'm afraid that she'll be overcome by my amazing qualities and leave you, and that would put us in a rather awkward situation," he said, flashing then a cheeky grin. Both Bill and Fleur laughed, relieved at the normalcy, even if it was only for a moment.

"You wish, little bro," Bill said as he and Fleur headed upstairs, shaking his head. Fred watched them with a grin, which disappeared as soon as they left the room. He turned instantly back to George, dropping to his knees.

"George," he said quietly, desperation leaking into his voice. "George, please wake up."

But George didn't wake up, and as Fred lay kneeling beside his twin's still form he had the horrible sensation that he was kneeling at his brother's deathbed. Choking back a sob, he gripped George's hand tighter, resting his head beside their intertwined fingers as he prepared himself for a long, lonely night.

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><p><em>Next chapter: George's fate is revealed while Fred is having second thoughts about their decision to fight in the war. <em>

_Thanks for reading, and please review! :)_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Hey, I think this is about the half way mark! I'd like to say a massive thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **runeaglerun**, **Aris1013**, **SlyDevil. COOKIES **(sorry for the space, but if I put it together the whole thing disappears for some reason), **Dimcairien**, **ncis-lady**, **Carkey**, **MaddyGervais**, **chocolateMnMs**, **midnightstar19** and **cutietrp**. You guys are brilliant. Honestly, I adore you all. It's really touching that you guys are all still following this, and I really appreciate all the feedback. I hope this chapter is okay! It continues straight off from the last one.

**Chapter 8**

Bill returned several minutes after he had gone upstairs, carrying a stack of blankets and pillows. Fred offered him a small smile as Bill placed his load on the floor beside Fred.

"Thanks, Bill," he said sincerely.

"If you need anything, you let us know, alright?" Bill said. Fred nodded as Bill left.

At that moment, George stirred slightly.

"George?" Fred asked hopefully but George didn't awaken. Sighing, Fred bundled the blankets until they made a soft pile. Taking one of the spares, he draped it over George, tucking in the corners, making sure George was warm.

"Night, George" he murmured as he curled up on the pile of blankets, his face turned towards the sofa.

There was no response.

The next morning, Bill was up quite early. On a normal day, he would lie in bed next to his gorgeous wife and try to think about a future where there was no war, where they could start a family without fearing for their lives. This particular morning however, he was out of bed almost immediately, heading downstairs to make sure that both Fred and George were still okay and that nothing had happened while he was sleeping.

Once downstairs, he peered into the living room. The fire that had been lit the night before was now gone, and the room temperature had dropped several degrees. Fred was sprawled on his stomach, head tilted to a side. The many blankets Bill had provided were strewn haphazardly nearby; in the cool room, Fred was shivering slightly with only one blanket covering half his body.

Apparently he'd had a restless night.

George on the other hand had barely moved from the position Bill had left him in the previous night, his body stretched out on the couch. Bill noticed that George's hand had fallen from its position on the couch, and was now lightly brushing against Fred's hair. He couldn't help but smile at George's unconscious attempt to seek comfort from his twin. He was tempted to wake Fred up- the number of times he'd been rudely awakened by one of their pranks- but eventually decided against it, as Fred seemed to have had a rough night, and could probably use all the sleep he could get. It took a lot of self-restraint on Bill's behalf though.

It was several hours later, when both Bill and Fleur had already finished a quiet, peaceful breakfast, that Bill noticed both Fred and George beginning to stir.

George felt… strange. His eyelids felt as though they were being held down by weights, his throat was dry, and there was a dull ringing noise echoing in his ears. Moving his head slowly, he paused as he sensed that several people were staring at him. It took a great deal of effort, but he somehow managed to open his eyes. Fred's bloodshot eyes were staring back at him.

"F-Fred," George somehow managed to get out, wincing at the pain it caused his throat. Behind Fred he saw a slight movement, but he didn't know what caused it.

"George," Fred whispered back, looking as though he was on the verge of tears.

"What-" George started to ask, but couldn't get any further.

"We were attacked at Diagon Alley, do you remember? There was an explosion, and you… you collapsed, so I brought us here," Fred said, his hand moving to grasp George's.

"Where-" George swallowed.

"We're at Bill and Fleur's house," Fred replied, and it was only then that George noticed his oldest brother standing behind Fred. He smiled down at George.

"Hey buddy," he said quietly. "How are you feeling?"

"My…" George gestured to his throat weakly, when suddenly Fleur was kneeling beside Fred, offering George a glass of water. He took several sips gratefully, feeling his cracked throat soften.

"How long have we been here?" George asked once he had finished the glass, glad that his voice sounded somewhat normal again, although the slight hoarseness made him cringe.

"You came last night," Bill replied, perching on the armrest by George's head and stroking George's hair gently. "You were in bad shape, we were worried about you."

George bit his lip and looked at Fred. His brother was in a poor condition. George could still make out faint scars on his face, and his wrist was bandaged. But the damage went beyond just physical injuries; Fred had a slightly haunted look about him, and George didn't miss the way Fred's eyes would constantly return to him, as though making sure that George was still there.

"M'okay Fred," he mumbled quietly. Fred got that look on his face when he was about to make a joke to try and diffuse the emotional tension, and sure enough:

"Next time you try and become the holey spirit, you warn me beforehand alright?" He remarked with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. Bill groaned, and swatted Fred's arm lightly.

"No holey jokes here," he said warningly, although the smile on his face spoke otherwise. "Well, if you're okay George, I'm off to write a letter to Mum. No doubt she heard about the attack and is worried sick about both of you." He hurried up the stairs, leaving the twins and Fleur.

"I shall prepare ze breakfast," Fleur said with a smile, heading towards the kitchen.

"Thanks Fleur," Fred called out. She acknowledged this with a wave. Once she was in the kitchen, Fred turned to George, dropping his cheerful mood immediately.

"Are you alright George?" He asked seriously. George, knowing better than to respond with 'I'm fine', instead pondered the question for a moment.

"My head's still sore, and there's a ringing in my ear," he answered honestly. "But I feel a hell of a lot better than I did last night."

Fred dropped to his knees beside George's couch. "You ah… you remember last night?" He asked, slightly cautious. George frowned.

"Yeah, there was the attack… and then we were lying somewhere soft. You were hovering over me, saying something. I can't remember what though," he said, furrowing his brow. Fred looked slightly relieved. "All I can remember is that my head felt like it was going to explode. Worse than it's ever felt, Fred, I… I honestly thought I was going to die," George said solemnly. Fred's relieved look vanished.

"The way you were lying there… so did I," he replied gravely, and George felt that he finally understood just why Fred had looked so haunted.

"But I'm not." George said firmly, as thought trying to convince both himself and Fred. "I'm still here."

Fred nodded, gripping George's hand within his own. "Yeah," he whispered. There was a slight pause. "George, I-"

"Breakfast eez served!" Fleur declared with a flourish, presenting them with two hovering plates stacked with food. Both Fred and George's eyes grew wide and their stomachs growled in unison.

"That looks marvellous, thanks Fleur," George gushed gratefully as he took one of the plates eagerly.

"You're amazing Fleur, you really are," Fred agreed, taking the other plate. Fleur looked quite pleased at both comments.

"Well, eet was nothing," she said with a smile. "I 'ope eet eez to your, how do you say, enjoyment."

The twins tucked in, soothing their stomachs. Within ten minutes, both plates were clean. George turned back to Fred, eyebrows raised.

"You were saying?" He prompted. Fred looked lost.

"What?"

"You were going to say something before." George reminded him.

"Oh! It- it was nothing," Fred tried to stand up, but George grabbed him, forcing Fred to look at him.

"Fred, _what_?" He asked forcefully. Fred gave a regretful little sigh before dropping to the floor, crossing his legs.

"George, I don't- I don't know if I can do this anymore," he said nervously. George felt rather confused.

"Do what?" He asked.

"This. Be- be a part of this war. Fight for the Order," he said, still wearing the same sad, vulnerable expression.

"What? _Why?_" George asked, utterly confused. Fred, not wanting to be a part of something so big, so important? What could possibly change his mind so suddenly? "Who are you and what have you done with Fred?"

"I'm seriously, George," Fred said solemnly, and George dropped the act.

"Why?" He repeated.

"Because."

"Because _what_?" George snapped, growing impatient at Fred's evasiveness.

"Because I have too much to lose!" Fred shot back, rising to his feet. George did the same, although he kept a hand on the couch to maintain his balance.

"_Too much to lose_?" He repeated incredulously. "Since when have you ever had _too much to lose_?"

"Since forever!" Fred said, turning his back on his brother. "I just didn't realise it until recently."

"Oh well, if you're too important for this war, I suppose that gives you a good reason to just walk out on all of us," George threw back, his voice growing louder, anger clouding his mind.

"I never said I was important!" Fred snapped.

"You clearly value what you have to lose more than you value anyone else-"

"You git, you _are_ what I have to lose!" Fred yelled, face flushed. George fell silent, mouth open.

"What?" He finally whispered.

"You heard me," Fred replied, his own voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Fred-"

"I can't. I _can't_, George. I can't handle everyone being in so much danger all the time. George, we could lose anyone in our family at any second and I can't do anything to stop it and I'm so _scared_." Fred had once again dropped to the floor, resting his arms on his knees, his head cradled in his hands. George wordlessly took a seat beside him, not knowing what to say. Out of the two of them, George was the one who tended to be more emotional, to cave into tears, never Fred. At least until now.

"Dad's at the ministry all the time and Mum's alone at home. Bill's already in hiding, Charlie is somewhere in Romania and we barely hear from him, we don't even know which side Percy's on, Ginny's at Hogwarts where _Snape_ is the headmaster and Ron-" here Fred gripped his hair tightly in his hands, knuckles white. "We don't even know if Ron's _alive_, George. He could be in so much danger with Harry and Hermione right now and I can't do anything to help anyone." Fred buried his face in his hands, and George had a strong suspicion that Fred was fighting back tears.

"And you!" Fred suddenly exclaimed, head flying up again, eyes bright. "I can't even protect you and you're my twin! Even when I'm with you, you still manage to get yourself injured!"

"Fred, what happened to me isn't your fault," George tried to reassure him, but Fred barrelled on.

"I can't lose you, George," he said quietly, his eyes dark. "I can't lose anyone in our family but I _cannot lose you_." Fred was looking at him despairingly, and at that moment George was willing to do anything to make Fred feel better, even if it was agreeing to something that he had no control over, because he had never seen Fred look so despondent in the nineteen years they had been alive. He pulled Fred into his arms, making soothing noises.

"You won't, Fred," he whispered, stroking Fred's hair. "You won't lose me. You won't."

Fred seemed to find comfort in George's words, however meaningless they were. He drew back from George, his eyes wet.

"I just wish I could take everyone away. Take them all somewhere safe, away from this war. Our entire family and Harry and Hermione and Fleur. Everyone I care about. I wish I could keep them safe." Fred said sorrowfully. George gently squeezed Fred's shoulder, feeling a small part of his heart break at the obvious pain Fred was feeling.

"That's some hero complex you've got there mate. And I thought Harry was bad!" He said jokingly, and Fred laughed weakly, rubbing his eyes. George sighed, knowing it would take more than a joke. He wasn't sure how to reassure Fred, but he decided to do his best.

"Someone once reminded me of something we heard. That when the time came, we would have to choose between doing what is easy and what is right," George said, voice cracking slightly. "That same someone told me that the war we're fighting is by no means easy, but it's definitely right. I would think that if our family had to risk their lives for anything, it should be this."

Fred was quiet, obviously remembering the moment as well as George. After a few moments, he opened his mouth.

"Was this someone a devilishly handsome, incredibly intelligent, amazingly suave double of yours?" He finally asked, the hint of a smile lingering on his lips. George raised an eyebrow.

"More like an annoying tosspot that has nothing on his twin brother," he replied, laughing as Fred gave him a shove.

"Is everything alright?" Bill's voice asked from the top of the staircase. Fleur peered around from behind him, looking worried. "We heard yelling…"

"Everything's fine," Fred reassured them. "Just reminding dear George here of exactly who is the better twin."

"Clearly me," George said.

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

Bill groaned. "I thought you two grew out of this stage when you were seven!" He moaned.

"Well clearly we haven't," George told his disapprovingly. "Honestly Bill, don't you _ever_ pay attention?" With his hands on his hips, brow furrowed, he reminded Bill strikingly of their mother.

"Always had his head in the clouds, that one," Fred told Fleur in a loud whisper. She laughed, tossing her hair.

"Wherever 'is 'ead eez, I still love 'im," she said, gazing adoringly at her husband, who shot the twins a triumphant look.

"How much did you pay her to say that, Bill?"

"Oi!" Bill lightly threw a pillow at George, mindful of the fact that George had only recently woken up. Fred watched on, laughing as George tackled Bill, who easily picked up his younger brother and deposited him back on the couch, ordering him to rest because Bill 'didn't fight invalids even if they were asking for it'. But Fred couldn't fight off the lingering despair he felt despite George's words, the feeling that not all of them were going to survive this war. Luck didn't seem to run strongly in their family when it came to injuries; Ginny, Ron, George, Bill and Arthur had all been wounded already, and Fred wasn't quite sure how much longer what little luck they had was going to hold up.

_Next chapter: Fred and George return to Diagon Alley to find their shop is not in the state they left it. At all. Meanwhile George deals with the repercussions of the attack, and a trip to the Burrow leaves Molly slightly hysterical._

_Thanks for reading, and please review! :)_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Gargantuan (I got sick of the word massive :D) thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **ncis-lady**, **cutietrp**, **SlyDevil. COOKIES**, **runeaglerun**, **Dimcairien**, **midnightstar19**, **Aris1013**, **MaddyGervais** and **chocolateMnMs**. As always, I really do appreciate the fact that you guys take the time to leave such awesome reviews I hope you all like this chapter; I'm actually quite proud of it. Oh and just to answer a query: no, there won't be any twincest in this story. Just lots of brotherly moments. Anyway, hope you have a good read!

**Chapter 9**

George swallowed as he observed the wreckage of their shop.

It was now two days after the attack on Diagon Alley. Fred and George had spent one more night at Bill's house before leaving with the promise that they would be more careful. They had immediately headed to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, intent on seeing just how much damage their shop had sustained.

Compared to other premises he had seen across the street, George knew they were lucky. They had passed several shop owners outside who were staring in horror at their own utterly destroyed property. One poor shop keeper was sobbing on his knees in front of a burnt out hollow that was all that was left of his shop. But still, as George's eyes swept over the shattered windows, the fallen shelves, their products strewn across the floor in massive heaps, he couldn't help but feel regret at the destruction of their hard work.

"Bloody hell," he heard Fred mutter from a few metres away. Turning, he saw that Fred was standing near the shelves which had held skiving snackboxes; all that remained now was a hole in the wall, with the charred remnants of their masterpieces scattered nearby.

George took a step forward, cringing as he heard a crunch. Glancing down, he spotted the remains of one of their love potions, the liquid slowly spreading across the floor, darkening the floorboards. Clearing the mess with his wand, George continued forward until he reached the backroom, peering through the curtains. The area was not as badly damaged as the rest of the shop; there were several scorch marks on the floor and walls, however only a few objects had fallen off the shelves.

"How bad is it?" Fred suddenly asked, popping up behind George.

"Easily fixable." George replied. "Our defence line is fine; none of the spells reached it. But the rest of it…" They both turned to look back at the main segment of their shop. Fred sighed.

"Guess we'd better get started then," he said, rolling up his sleeves and removing his wand from his pocket. George did the same. They got to work, repairing the windows, the door, the walls, the shelves. Fred began sorting their products into piles: those which were fine, those which were slightly damaged but could be repaired, and those which were to be discarded.

Hours later, they stood back and observed their handiwork. The main features of the shop had been repaired, the walls now intact, any gaping holes closed. The windows had been fixed, the shards of glass removed from the floor. To their dismay however, the number of products which they had to discard clearly outnumbered the products they could fix. Fred vented his anger by kicking at the large pile, sending the objects tumbling across the floor. George completely understood his anger; they both felt as though the attack on their shop had been a personal attack on them, and it put a damper on their usual lively spirits.

George was not only facing an emotional challenge but also a physical one. His ear had been playing up ever since they began cleaning, and had only gotten worse as the hours passed. To his frustration, the dull ringing in his ear still hadn't left either. George had resorted to discretely rubbing it when Fred's back was turned. Apparating into Diagon Alley had been particularly painful; after having grown used to the uncomfortable sensation, George once again found himself collapsed in Fred's arms, struggling to fight off the nausea and dizziness as several passersby eyed the twins wearily, unsure whether to offer a hand.

"Come on, let's go." Fred said suddenly, heading for the staircase leading to their flat.

"We're not done yet," George said, confused. The shop may look better than it had, but there was still a lot of work left to do.

"You're done for today. Don't think I haven't noticed your ear's been bothering you," Fred replied, tugging on George's jumper. "Come on."

Well, so much for being discrete.

George silently followed Fred up the stairs. It was only when they were near the top that he realised with a start that they had no clue whether their flat had been raided during the attack. Their shop showed no sign of being looted, but it was quite possible that the Death Eaters had found no value in their products and instead had headed for their living quarters. Fred seemed to have come to the same conclusion; his footsteps grew more hesitant as they reached the door, as though dreading what he would find. It was with a deep breath that he flung open the door and stepped inside.

To George's utter relief, their flat was just as they had left it. One of their newest inventions was still resting on the table where they had left it; their dirty dishes were still in the sink from the last meal they had eaten. George even spotted his pillow resting on the ground, from when he had hurled it at Fred who had been singing loudly at six in the morning.

"They didn't come up here," George said, reassured. Fred nodded as he wandered out of their bedroom. "Not that you'd be able to tell, with the mess we leave."

"You're beginning to sound like mum," Fred said warningly.

"Well one of us has to," George muttered back as he cleaned the dishes with a wave of his wand before putting them back in the cupboard.

"No no, no more cleaning for you," Fred declared as he pulled George over to his bed.

"Fred, I'm not an invalid," George protested as he was forced under the blankets.

"Well you're not a perfectly healthy person either. You've been rubbing your ear constantly, and judging that you've occasionally missed what I've said, I'm guessing that your ear is still ringing." Fred raised an eyebrow at George as though daring him to say Fred was wrong. George had no response.

"Right. So you stay in bed, okay? Try and get some rest if you can. We'll go visit mum and dad for dinner." Fred patted George's shoulder as he turned to leave, and despite his earlier protests George felt his eyelids flutter shut almost immediately as he drifted off to sleep.

Two hours later, George awoke, struggling to breathe. Something was covering his nose and mouth, preventing his from getting to the much needed oxygen. Struggling, he eventually managed to throw off his assailant and jumped out of bed, grabbing his wand. He looked down as saw that his assailant was none other than… his pillow.

George lowered his wand, feeling rather foolish. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was 5pm. His stomach gave a loud growl, reminding him that neither he nor Fred had eaten anything since breakfast at Bill's house. George walked to the kitchen, searching for Fred (and food) but couldn't find the former. He found plenty of the latter however, and loaded several chicken sandwiches onto a plate before heading downstairs. If he knew Fred- and he did- then Fred would be downstairs, clearing their shop, and most likely having completely forgotten to eat, being so caught up in the task.

Sure enough, Fred was exactly where George knew he would be. Fred's head shot up the moment George reached the last step, and a grin spread across his face.

"Alright there, sleeping beauty?" He asked, eyeing the sandwiches hungrily.

"You told me not to clean and yet here you are, doing just that," George reprimanded, offering a sandwich to Fred, who took it hungrily.

"Yes well, I couldn't sit around listening to you happily snoring all day, could I?" He asked, voice muffled by the sandwich. "So I decided to make myself useful. What do you think?"

George glanced around. In the last few hours Fred had managed to achieve a great amount of work. Fred had repaired a number of their products which were now resting on the new shelves. The floor was fairly clean, and the scorch marks had been removed. However without the mess, it became so much clearer to Fred and George just how much work they would have to do. The shelves, which had been packed with their products, were now mostly empty. The barrels containing their trick wands and other items were only half full, and there was only one box of skiving snackboxes left.

"It looks so… _empty_," George finally said wistfully. Fred nodded, finishing off his third sandwich.

"Don't worry," he said, slapping George on the back. "We'll get it filled up soon enough."

"Maybe we could add some of the new things we've been working on," George contemplated, eyes sparkling slightly.

"Now you're getting it!" Fred said with a wide grin. The two headed upstairs, arguing over which new products were ready for sale.

An hour later, after washing up and changing, they were ready to leave. Fred increased the wards around the shop and their flat as they walked outside, in a weak attempt to prevent any further attacks. The two pulled their scarves tighter around their necks as the fierce wind blew through them.

"Ready?" Fred asked, shivering slightly, his breath forming a slight puff of smoke. George nodded wearily, offering his hand to Fred. With a loud crack, they disapparated, reappearing seconds later just outside the Burrow. George doubled over immediately, the pain in his head as strong as it had been when they left Bill and Fleur's place. He had no idea what the attack had done to his ear, but it had definitely made apparating a hell of a lot worse.

"Easy George," Fred said softly as he gently wrapped an arm around George's body, preventing him from toppling over. George, struggling to cope with the dizziness, queasiness and now pain, couldn't do anything other than lean into Fred's embrace.

"It _hurts_," George managed to gasp out, and he could sense Fred frowned.

"Your head?" He asked, although George barely heard him through the pain.

"Mmhm," George mumbled. Fred dropped to his knees, bringing George down with him, reminding them both of that first time at Bill's wedding reception. George felt the same lurching in his stomach that he had experienced the first time, and tightened his grip on Fred's arm. He felt Fred stroke his hair in response, avoiding his missing ear.

"Okay, okay, just breathe George," Fred said, pulling out his wand, and a moment later George felt the pain lessen. His breathing grew steadier as he struggled to focus on Fred, who was still swirling before his eyes.

"What did you do?" He asked. Fred shrugged.

"Just a spell. I've been reading a few books since we found out about your ear. There was nothing for dizziness or nausea, but pain…" Fred helped George get to his feet, resting a supportive hand on his arm as the wooziness slowly left.

"Ready?" Fred asked gently. After blinking several times, George nodded.

"Yeah."

The two headed for the door. As soon as they walked in, Molly came rushing at them, pulling them both into her arms.

"Thank goodness you're both alright!" She cried out.

"We're fine mum," George reassured her. Over her shoulder, he could see their father looking at them with a worried glance.

"Bill send us a letter explaining what happened… oh George, you could have been killed!" Molly sobbed, releasing Fred and instead wrapping both arms around George. Fred, grinning slightly at his escape, moved to hug their father.

"Ello dad," He said as Arthur pulled him into a warm hug.

"Are you okay Fred?" Arthur asked quietly, his hand moving to Fred's still bandaged wrist.

"Oh yeah. Bill fixed me up. I'm right as rain," Fred said cheerfully, removing the bandages before Molly could see them.

"Good. Molly, let George go, the poor boy probably wants to breathe," Arthur reprimanded lightly. Molly let go of George with a little sob.

"Attack on Diagon Alley…. anything could have happened… so _worried_," she muttered as she ushered them into the kitchen where dinner was being prepared. They made small talk as they waited to eat.

"What happened?" Molly eventually burst out once the food had been placed on the table. George began explaining what had happened, stopping once they reached the explosion, where Fred took over. They both downplayed George's injuries slightly and didn't mention Fred's at all, not wanting to cause Molly any further concern. She already looked horrified by what they did reveal to her.

"So your ear is worse now?" Arthur asked between mouthfuls of his pasta.

"Unfortunately, yes." George replied.

"Are you going to St Mungo's again?" Molly asked worriedly. "Because I really think it would be best, I mean-"

"No mum, I think I'm just going to deal with it," George interrupted. Molly's eyes widened.

"Oh but dear-"

"They can't do anything to help, mum." George's voice was firm, his eyes resolved. Molly sighed.

"Very well. But both of you please promise you'll be _careful _next time!"

"You make it sound like we go looking for trouble mum!" Fred said, laughing. At that moment the light overhead shifted on Fred's face, revealing the numerous faint scars that had yet to heal to Molly.

"Fred," She gasped, eyes wide. "_Fred_!"

"What?" He asked, bewildered at her sudden change in tone. Molly rose from her chair, ran across the table and pulled Fred into her arms, looking horrified.

"Your face!" She cried out, and realisation dawned in Fred's eyes.

"Oh mum, it's just a few scratches," he laughed lightly, batting her hands away.

"A _few_?" She demanded, pitch rising.

"It's fine! They'll all heal in a few days; Bill's a really good healer-"

Molly seemed to swell with anger. "Bill _knew_ about this?" She shrieked. "He knew and he didn't tell me? He said you were both _fine_, just needed some _rest_! This is not fine!" She squawked, grabbing Fred's face in her hands.

"Molly-" Arthur began, having also risen from the table. "Molly dear, Fred's fine-"

"Don't tell me Fred is fine Arthur, _this is not fine_! One of your sons has been hurt and you're just standing there telling me its _fine_?"

"Molly, we're at war here. Considering the situation, I'd say Fred was very lucky to come out with a few scars and an injured wrist."

Fred and George both winced.

"INJURED WRIST?"

It took over an hour to calm Molly down and convince her that both Fred and George were unharmed. By this time, she had broken down in angry tears several times and pulled the twins into her arms more times than either cared to count. Thankfully they had convinced her that sending Bill an angry howler was not the solution, and to distract her, they both swore to stay at the Burrow for a week where she could keep an eye on them. This seemed to appease Molly, who after serving them mugs of hot chocolate headed upstairs, giving them each a kiss on the forehead.

George closed his eyes as his mother gently pressed her lips to his brow, basking in the love she seemed to emit. In the midst of the war, he was glad that their mother was so caring, however much he protested otherwise about her worrying ways. Slowly opening his eyes, he sniffed his hot chocolate, taking a sip. The liquid slid down his throat easily, warming him from the inside.

Arthur sat opposite Fred and George, cradling his own mug as he watched them carefully.

"Have you been to see your shop?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah, we went back this morning," George said as Fred sipped his own hot chocolate.

"How was it?"

"Terrible," Fred said moodily. "We managed to fix most of the exterior damage, but more than half our stock is gone. We'll have to start from scratch again."

"They didn't get into our flat though," George added, glancing at Fred in surprise. Of the two, Fred tended to be the more optimistic one. So why was he suddenly so down?

"Well that's good. And don't worry, if anyone could get their business up and running again, it's you two," Arthur said with a proud smile.

"Thanks dad," George replied, feeling his heart warm at their father's words.

"Say dad, do you have any news about Ron?" Fred asked curiously. "Any rumours circulating the ministry?"

Arthur began discussing the possible whereabouts of Ron, Harry and Hermione. George found himself drawn in despite his concerns about Fred. Shaking his head, he focused on his father's words. He would have to deal with Fred tomorrow.

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: The twins struggle to get the shop back to normal. A customer and an old friend help raise their morale. (Sorry, that sounds bad, but it's really hard to summarise the next chapter!) <em>

_Thanks for reading and please review! _


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Giant thanks to everyone who reviewed: **Aris1013**, **chocolateMnMs**, **MaddyGervais**, **snitch-bewitch**, **TeamGredandForge**, **midnightstar19**, **ncis-lady**, **runeaglerun**, **SlyDevil. COOKIES**, and **Dimcairien**. Your lovely reviews made me very happy, plus helped me finish a chapter I've been struggling with for the past few days. So really, thank you from the bottom of my heart :) Right so onto this chapter… Gah, I personally don't like it. It doesn't flow and it's depressing and… just not good. But I have no idea how to fix it, so I decided to just put it up and get it over with so I can get to the next chapter. Feedback would be much appreciated!

Oh, and **SlyDevil. COOKIES**: Haha, I looked it up and apparently Rafiki said it in Lion King 1 ½. I had no idea, but wow, good memory!

**Chapter 10**

As it turned out, George didn't have time to deal with Fred. Molly, delighted to have two of her sons back for a week, kept them busy, although she constantly fussed over George, making him rest and lie down.

"Don't want to upset your ear, dear," she would say. George, who quickly grew tired of the mollycoddling after a day, would glare at Fred, who would be sniggering behind her, finding the whole situation very amusing.

George could tell Fred was itching to get back to fixing their shop though. He too was feeling the same way; knowing there was so much to do and being forced to stay away from their shop for a week was pure torture. However they both stayed put, knowing how heartbroken their mother would be if they cut their stay short. Plus, spending time at home had its advantages; they saw their mother and father every day, plus they didn't have to cook.

It was with a great deal of happiness a week later however that they finally returned to their own flat. Opening the door to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, they saw that the shop was just as they had left it, which was a relief but also a painful reminder of just how much work they had to do. Verity had left; they could hardly blame her. She had signed on to help run a joke shop, not be attacked by Death Eaters.

The first night they were back in their flat was a strange one. It was the first time they had slept in their own beds since the attack on Diagon Alley, and the reminders of that night still lingered nearby. George eventually fell into an uneasy sleep, waking up again at two in the morning for no apparent reason. Groaning softly, he tried to get back to sleep but found his mind wasn't willing to cooperate. Instead, he found himself wandering into the kitchen, searching for a snack.

As it turned out, he wasn't alone. Fred was seated on the kitchen counter, munching on a chocolate frog. He looked up, startled by George's unexpected appearance.

"Couldn't sleep?" George asked as he grabbed his own chocolate frog from the box beside Fred, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Yeah," Fred said quietly. "You too?"

George shrugged tiredly as he heaved himself onto the kitchen counter next to Fred. They sat in silence for a while, feasting contentedly on the chocolate frogs. Eventually George could feel the tiredness creeping back in. He barely noticed until he found his head was resting on Fred's shoulder.

"I think you're ready for bed George," Fred commented with a smirk. George punched his arm lightly as he got off the counter and headed back to bed, yawning. He paused and turned to Fred questioningly.

"You coming?" He asked. For a moment Fred looked as though he was going to refuse; then he nodded, sliding off the counter and following George.

The following day, the twins got to work restocking their shop. It took a while for them to get into the rhythm. While they still had the basic recipes for each of their products recorded, Fred and George had fallen into the bad habit of adding new ingredients to increase the effectiveness of their products without recording them down. As a result, their attempts to recreate their products involved a lot more experimentation than either had planned.

"Fred, I'm positive we added lacewings in that one."

"No, we added lacewings to _those_ ones. This one had salamander blood."

"No, I'm _sure_ this one had the lacewings."

"Well fine, add it in then."

A loud explosion later…

"Okay, I'm gonna go with the lacewings for this one."

"Told you so."

In a way, George was grateful for this extra work though. It gave them both something to do, keeping them busy, keeping their minds off the war in an extremely effective way. Sometimes, after spending hours rediscovering the recipe for a product, George would almost feel like they were back in school, away from the dangerous world, just him and Fred planning how to make mayhem at Hogwarts. The elation both he and Fred felt every time they successfully conquered a recipe was a pleasant break from the pains of the war. And as their shelves slowly began to fill up with products, George finally allowed himself to believe that they could do this. Together, he and Fred could bring their joke shop back.

While the daytime kept them carefree, the night brought with it fears and uncertainties. Fred was not the only with nightmares; too often George would wake up in the middle of the night, heart pounding. The nightmares varied; sometimes it was his family, being held prisoners, being tortured. Occasionally he would see a world where Harry was defeated and Voldemort ruled. More often than not though, George was plagued with visions of his family, dead. These were the worst; he would wake up yelling, his pillow wet with tears. He would wake up Fred in the process, but it hardly bothered Fred; the few nights George didn't have a nightmare, Fred would.

It eventually became an unspoken ritual for both twins to meet at in the kitchen at 2am every morning and snack on whatever they could find in their cupboards. They would occasionally speak, but the majority of the time was spent seated side by side, eating until one of them fell asleep. For some strange reason George found this comforting.

George's ear was still bothering him too. It was quiet most of the time, but when things got too loud, when he moved too suddenly, or when he apparated with Fred, it would flair up, and George would find himself curled up on the floor. Fred tried talking him into taking the potion, but George refused, too scared he would become dependent on them.

With all this on his mind, it was several weeks before George remembered to ask Fred what had been bothering him before.

"Nothing, George."

George sighed. He had been getting the same answer for the past two days and he was sick of it. Fred lifted a box of Puking Pastilles, intent on distributing them onto the newly repaired shelves. Instead, he found himself blocked by George, who was wearing a determined expression. Fred groaned.

"Fred, I know you were hiding something." George told Fred sternly.

"George, it's noth-"

"It's obviously something if you're going to such lengths to hide it."

Fred let out a frustrated huff, obviously realising that George wasn't going to let it go. He placed the box on the nearest shelf and turned to face George.

"I was just upset, okay? It's our shop, and they destroyed it." Fred said, jaw twitching. He picked up the box and turned to George. "I told you it was nothing," he mumbled as he walked away. George was left staring thoughtfully at Fred's back. He could understand Fred's anger; the shop had almost become a second home to them, the place of happiness and joy that they had strived to achieve since they were children. To see their work so brutally destroyed in a single attack was hard. With that thought in mind, George bent to collect his own box of Fainting Fancies, determined that he would work twice as hard to ensure their shop was restored to its original condition. For himself and for Fred.

One morning George was levitating a box of self-checking quills onto a high shelf when he heard a little tapping on the door. He turned around, thinking that perhaps his ear was playing up but Fred, who was standing near the counter, was also looking at the door. Evidently George hadn't just imagined it. Pulling out his wand from his pocket, George slowly opened the door, peering outside. To his surprise, he found a young boy, no older than eight years old, gazing up at him.

"Can- can I help you?" George asked, slightly bemused as he pocketed his wand.

"I'd like to buy something," the young child informed him.

"I'm sorry, we're not open yet," George told the boy, who looked heartbroken.

"But I saved up all my birthday money to buy something," the boy said, his bottom lip trembling. George could feel Fred approaching them and he turned helplessly to his brother.

"What do I do?" He whispered. Fred's eyes flickered between George and the boy standing before them. He eventually crouched in front of the boy.

"Hey, what's your name?" He asked softly.

"Bill," The boy replied, sniffing.

"Bill? Well how's that for coincidence! We have an older brother named Bill!" Fred exclaimed, looking at George.

"Are you an older brother, Bill?" George asked, crouching next to Fred. Little Bill nodded, eyes widening when he realised that the two men in front of him looked exactly the same.

"I got two sisters," he mumbled shyly. George exchanged a glance with Fred

"You know what Bill? We'll make you a special deal," Fred began, standing up.

"Just for you, because your name's Bill. If you promise to be a good older brother and look after your sisters, we'll let you come buy something. How does that sound?" George asked. Bill's face lit up.

"Oh yes please! I promise I'll look after them, I promise!" He said excitedly. Fred beamed.

"Well then, dear Bill, welcome to our shop," he declared, stepping aside so Bill could enter. Which he did, his eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

"You ever been here before Bill?" George asked as the young boy ran over to the nearest shelf. Bill shook his head vigorously.

"No sir," he said, running to the next shelf. His eyes widened as he found the trick wand section. He picked up one, and burst out laughing as it turned into a rubber chicken. George felt his heart flutter slightly at the sound; it had been so long since they had heard someone laugh in such a carefree way. Lord knows he and Fred hadn't for weeks.

"Can I buy this?" Bill asked, still grinning. Fred took it and walked to the counter.

"You sure can! It costs four galleons. Do you have that much?" Fred asked, slightly worried. Bill carefully counted the coins in his hand.

"I got four galleons, seven sickles and two knuts," he said proudly as he handed Fred the four galleons. Fred handed him the trick wand, grinning. Bill accepted it enthusiastically, giggling when it changed into the rubber chicken again.

"Thank you!" He exclaimed, turning to leave.

"Um Bill, where are your parents?" George asked, slightly worried at the idea of letting a young child roam the streets in such dangerous times.

"Outside. They're waiting for me," he informed them.

"Well then, you have a very good day Bill." Fred said as he joined George.

"You too, misters!" Bill ran out the door, grinning.

It was their first sale since the attack, and the fact that there were still people out there wanting to buy their products filled Fred and George with a renewed vigour. They would spend hours focusing on recreating their inventions, and their efforts were rewarded; slowly but surely, the shelves were filling up, the shop was beginning to feel as it had before.

On a night near the end of November, Fred and George were stocking shelves when there was a knock on their door. Exchanging a glance, Fred climbed down from the step ladder he was on while George put down the box he was carrying. The two drew their wands and cautiously approached the door, pulling it open slowly. A figure stood before them, wrapped in a thick jacket with a scarf covering their mouth so most of their features were obscured. There was no mistaking those laughing eyes though.

"Lee!" Fred exclaimed, pulling the figure- their old friend Lee Jordan- into a hug.

"Hey guys," Lee laughed as George did the same moments later, pulling him into the shop and closing the door, shutting out the cold.

"What are you doing here?" George asked, surprised.

"Visiting you. What does it look like?" Lee asked.

"Ha, you probably have an ulterior motive. Come to steal our newest inventions, haven't you," Fred joked.

"Oh yeah. I plan on opening up a rival joke shop next door and kick you guys out of business," Lee replied, eyes sparkling. The three broke into peals of laughter, and George couldn't believe how happy he felt to see a familiar face.

"Well it's great to see you mate," Fred said sincerely.

"It's great to see you too. George, how's the ear going? You never did explain what happened to it properly," Lee reminded. George began explaining the events that had occurred as they led Lee up to their flat, making sure to lock the shop door and put up protecting wards.

"I suppose its Snape's way of paying you back for that atrocity of a potion you made in our fifth year," Lee commented as they sat in the twin's living room, sipping firewhisky.

"Oh, you mean the Draught of Peace?" George reminisced.

"More like the Draught of Puke!"

"Yes, it did end up turning into a rather disgusting colour. I don't think he appreciated it exploding on him," George said thoughtfully.

Shame it didn't match too well with Snape's robes." Fred's eyes were gleaming.

"Or his hair," Lee added, grinning.

"He couldn't get it out for days," George continued, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"I don't think he took it well when McGonagall offered him a witch's hat-"

"With a stuffed vulture on top!"

The three howled with laughter, recalling Snape's murderous expression.

"I have some news for you lads," Lee said after their giggles had finally ceased. "I've just started my own radio broadcast."

"Lee, that's brilliant!" George exclaimed, leaning forward.

"Knew that Quidditch commentary would come in handy!" Fred declared. Lee beamed.

"Yeah, it's called Potterwatch. I'm going to try and tell listeners the truth about everything, unlike the rest of those Ministry controlled shows on air," Lee said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"We don't even bother turning the radio on anymore, they're playing absolute rubbish." George commented.

"What have you got planned so far?" Fred asked, eyes gleaming.

"Oh you know, just try and dispel rumours about You Know Who, report on deaths that have been hidden by the Ministry, and any other news." Lee looked excited at his new opportunity, and George didn't blame him in the slightest.

"Hey, you should have some segment where you get other people on to talk about Harry. I mean, he is the front man for our side. I'm sure that members of the Order would be willing to help," Fred suddenly said.

"Yeah! Lupin would definitely be interested. And maybe Kingsley too." George contributed.

"That's a brilliant idea! We could call it…" Lee paused, trying to think of a suitable name.

"Pals of Potter," Fred offered.

"Yes!" Lee leapt to his feet, face glowing. "I knew it was a good idea to come to you two!

"I knew there was a reason you came!" Fred declared, grinning.

"Yeah well, make sure you listen to my broadcast. You need a password to access it; this week's is going to be 'Fawkes'. It should be on Tuesday," Lee told them.

"We'll be listening," George promised. Fred nodded in agreement.

"Hey, you guys should come on one day! I'm sure the listeners would appreciate some light hearted humour," Lee said enthusiastically.

"We'll be there," Fred declared, raising his goblet of firewhisky in a toast. George and Lee raised theirs too, and there was a clunk as the three goblets hit each other, finalising the promise.

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: It's Christmas at the Burrow. Need I say more?<em>

_I also have a question for you all: Where would you like me to end this story? Because I can't quite decide, so I was hoping you guys could help me. I'd love to hear back from you!_

_Thanks for reading, and please review! :)_


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Christmas! I don't know about you guys, but writing about Christmas when it's not _actually_ Christmas kind of makes me sad. But oh well. This is a pretty happy chapter; I couldn't exactly write a depressing chapter about _Christmas_. Season of festivity and what not. So yeah, I hope you guys like it. Also an enormous thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter: **ncis-lady**, **SlyDevil. COOKIES**, **cutietrp**, **Dimcairien**, **midnightstar19**, **MaddyGervais**, **chocolateMnMs**, **snitch-bewitch**, and **Aris1013**. Your words were extremely encouraging, and I truly do appreciate them. So thank you all :) For those of you interested, I think I'm going to end this just before the Battle of Hogwarts. Haha, the feedback I got was lovely; it kind of helped me weigh up the pro's and con's (you guys were very divided in opinions). So yes, thanks to everyone who replied to that too. And okay, this author's note is WAY too long, so on with the chapter!

Ok sorry, had to repost this... spelling mistake.

**Chapter 11**

George could hardly believe that a festivity like Christmas was still being celebrated so enthusiastically by their mother when there was a chance that Voldemort could burst through their door and kill them all at any second. But it was, and George had no intention of complaining.

Although really, she thought he and Fred had their priorities wrong? Seriously?

George ducked as a Christmas ornament soared above his head. He turned to see Fred grinning as the ornament reached the Christmas tree and settled itself amongst the branches, loudly emitting a Christmas carol.

"Perfect," Molly declared as she adjusted the last piece of tinsel on the tree. She and the twins stepped back to admire their handiwork.

"We'll let Ginny put the star on top," Fred said, placing the star on the mantelpiece for safekeeping. Molly glanced at the clock nearby.

"Goodness, we'd better head off to Kings Cross. Ginny will be there any minute!" She exclaimed, hurrying over to the fireplace. "Arthur!" She called.

Moments later, their father came indoors, shivering from the cold, and looking slightly dishevelled. He had been attempting to use a muggle contraption called a hair drier (or as Arthur called it, "hair droor") down in his shed.

"Arthur, Fred and I are going to pick up Ginny," Molly said, pulling on her coat. "You and George be careful, alright?"

"How are you getting back?" George asked curiously as he took pity on Fred, who couldn't find his jacket, and gave him his own. They had decided beforehand that since they were apparating to Kings Cross, George would remain at the Burrow so as not to draw any unnecessary attention to his condition. He was still finding it difficult to apparate alongside Fred without collapsing afterwards. Meanwhile Fred and Molly would pick Ginny up and bring her home for the holiday.

"We'll be apparating there and back," Molly replied, wrapping a scarf around her neck. "Ginny will apparate with me. Fred, have you got your scarf?"

"Yeah, right here," Fred replied and he tightened it around his neck before pulling on a pair of gloves. "Alright, ready to go!"

"Be careful," George said hurriedly. For a moment Fred's face was solemn, and George could feel the worry creeping in on him. But then a cheeky grin spread across Fred's face.

"We'll only be gone for a few minutes George. Honestly, you're worse than mum!"

George couldn't help but grin back, shoving Fred gently. Arthur raised his wand and removed the wards momentarily as Fred and Molly disapparated with a loud crack. There was a still silence as both George and Arthur gazed at each other.

"Well George, would you like to come and see the hair droor? It's a truly remarkable thing; you press a button, and this gust of hot air comes bursting out! I've adjusted it so the noise isn't as loud, and it doesn't need ekklecity anymore." Arthur looked so excited at the prospect of tinkering with his new toy, and George felt a surge of affection. He grinned.

"Sure dad, why not?" The two bundled up (George found Fred's previously misplaced jacket and pulled it on) and headed outside, wincing at the cold. George could feel his skin beginning to freeze and he pulled Fred's jacket closer. They hurried to Arthur's work shed and shut the door, heaving a sigh of happiness as the warmth rushed back to their bodies. Arthur led George to his work table.

"Here it is," Arthur proclaimed, gesturing towards the 'hair droor'. George peered at it curiously.

"It doesn't look like much," he remarked, observing the strange shape. "Does it hold hair or something?"

"No actually. But you know how muggles are, always confusing things. They probably misnamed it or something," Arthur said offhandedly. "But look at what it _does_!" He enthusiastically flicked the switch on and a rush of hot air blew directly into George's face, sending his hair flying.

"Woah!" He exclaimed, jumping back. Arthur quickly switched it off. "That was awesome! What do they use it for?"

"Something to do with their hair, although I can't figure out what," Arthur replied, frowning at the device. George was about to speak when they heard a loud crack outside, the sound of several someone's apparating. Exchanging a look, they both crept to the door and peered outside. At first all George could see was several dark figures, but as they approached their vivid red hair grew visible, and George grinned.

"It's them!" He exclaimed, opening the door and running outside. He had intended on giving Ginny a hug, however as soon as he reached within twenty metres of them, a snowball flew over and hit his chest. George glared at Fred, who was obviously the guilty party. He was rewarded with a wide, toothy grin. Bending over, George scooped up his own snowball and sent it hurtling towards Fred, who managed to dodge most of it, but still ended up with a patch of snow on his jacket. Or well, George's jacket.

"Snowball fight!" Fred declared, hurling yet another snowball at George, who performed some kind of pirouette to avoid it. Fred burst out laughing at this rather unmanly display. George was about to retaliate when a third snowball hit his forehead. Spinning around, he found Ginny, grinning unabashed.

"Two on one and you both gang up on the only injured person!" He protested. Ginny considered this, then whirled around and threw a snowball at Fred, who ducked, wide eyed.

"Ginny! You promised you'd be on my side!" He exclaimed.

"But George is injured, Fred. He's practically worthless on his own," Ginny explained, laughing.

"Oi! Still here you know!"

While Ginny stood giggling to herself, Fred and George looked at each other, as though sharing a private conversation. A second later, their faces split into identical grins. Ginny stopped laughing immediately.

"Oh no," she said, backing away. "No, that's not fair. You're both taller than me!"

"Should have thought of that before," George replied, advancing.

"It's your fault for being so mercurial," Fred said, still grinning.

"Oh, using big words now are we Fred?" Ginny asked rhetorically, trying to distract her brothers so she could run back into the house.

"I'll have you know that my vocabulary is perfectly adequate at all times," Fred shot back, sticking his nose in the air. This was the moment Ginny had been waiting for. She sprinted towards the house, and had advanced about 20 metres when George grabbed her, pulling her down to the cold snow.

The three engaged in a furious snowball battle, only stopping when it grew dark and they could barely see.

"Dinner's nearly ready, come in and wash up!" Molly yelled from the doorway. Fred, George and Ginny scrambled up and headed indoors, throwing a snowball at each other every so often, laughing. Arthur chuckled when he saw them, soaked to the bone, shivering, and wearing massive grins. Molly just scolded them lightly and sent them upstairs, handing Ginny her trunk which she had completely forgotten about.

"You should take better care of your possession," George commented as they walked upstairs.

"You shouldn't have distracted me," Ginny shot back.

"Technically Fred started it," George pointed out, looking at his twin.

"You're both as bad as each other," Ginny replied, refusing to give up.

"Guys, stop arguing," Fred said. George and Ginny looked at him in surprise. "Instead, wallow in your sorrows."

"Why would we be sorrowful?" George asked suspiciously. Fred shot them a grin.

"Because I'll be taking a nice hot shower while you lot sit here freezing!" He exclaimed loudly before sprinting upstairs, Ginny and George at his heels. After a lot of pushing, shoving, elbowing and hair pulling, Fred eventually got into the bathroom first. George and Ginny both groaned.

"He'll be _forever_," Ginny sighed, sliding down the wall.

"I can still hear you!" Fred's voice echoed from inside the bathroom.

"That was the point, you numpty!" George yelled back. The door creaked open and Fred peered out at them.

"Numpty? _Numpty_? Just for that, I'm going to take five minutes longer," Fred informed them snootily, before shutting the door again. Ginny groaned once more.

After dinner, the family gathered around the tree. George handed Ginny the ornamental star they had saved for her, and she took it with a smile. Moving a chair closer to the tree, Ginny perched precariously on the edge, and eventually managed to place the star on top of the tree. She stepped down, looking back at Fred and George, who had a better view of the tree from where they were standing.

"How does it look?" She called out.

"Perfect," Fred told her and she grinned.

Come Christmas morning, the occupants of the Burrow were up quite early. There were thuds echoing from upstairs as the three siblings frantically tried to get to the tree first to open their presents.

"George!" Ginny shrieked as he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, placing her behind him.

"Fred!" George complained as Fred used his arms and legs to block the staircase.

"Ginny!" Fred yelped as she poked his side repeatedly, trying to get past.

Eventually they all made it downstairs, albeit looking rather dishevelled. Molly raised an eyebrow at them but decided not to comment, instead directing them into the living room where the Christmas tree was.

"Alright, who's first?" She asked cheerfully. The three exchanged a glance before they all lunged for the presents.

"That's mine, George!"

"No it's not! See, the name starts with G." George protested, pointing vehemently at the label.

"My name starts with G too!"

George sheepishly handed the present to Ginny. Fred roared with laughter beside them, unwrapping his own gifts.

"Hope there's room for one more?" A voice asked from behind them, and everyone turned around to see a smiling Charlie standing at the doorway.

"Charlie!" Molly exclaimed, rising to hug her son. Fred, George and Ginny weren't far behind.

"Hey George, how's the ear?" Charlie asked, smiling at George, who shrugged.

"Caused a bit of trouble, but it seems to be fine now," he replied, grinning. Charlie raised an eyebrow but received no further explanation as Ginny pulled him in for a hug.

The mood was happier than ever now that Charlie had come home. Molly had received word earlier that Bill and Fleur wouldn't be coming over for Christmas, preferring to spend it alone (this had led to a lot of sniggering as Fred and George made several rather lewd comments before Molly told them off) and no one expected Percy or Ron to show up (for two completely different reasons). However Charlie's presence almost made them forget that several members of their family were missing.

"I hope you brought present, Charlie," Fred said as he held out his hand expectantly. Charlie chuckled and handed over the few packages he had brought. George and Ginny cheered, and Ginny hugged Charlie again, declaring him her 'favourite brother'. Which earned her a glare from both Fred and George.

"Well isn't that just fine and dandy," Fred remarked, pouting.

"Don't worry Fred, you're _my_ favourite brother," George told him sweetly. Ginny mockingly commented on how adorable they were, resulting in a three person chase around the house. Ginny eventually won by hiding behind Molly, who scolded the twins for such immature behaviour before giving them her annual Christmas jumpers, while Ginny poked her tongue out at them.

Lunch and dinner were separated by a snowball fight outside. Fred and George narrowly beat Charlie and Ginny, but they were laughing too much to care. By midnight, everyone retired to bed, exhausted, except Charlie, Fred and George who were seated by the fireplace. Fred was lounging on the rug right next to the fire, while George and Charlie were seated in nearby armchairs.

"So, what are you both not telling me?" Charlie asked them once they were sure Ginny was upstairs. They hadn't told her about the attack on Diagon Alley, preferring not to worry the only member of their family who still retained some innocence despite the war. With a sigh, George recounted what had happened with his ear in the past few months, Fred interjecting every so often. There was a silence once George finished, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.

"That's…" Charlie shook his head almost disbelievingly. "You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?"

"Hey, it's not our fault this time," Fred protested from the floor.

"Oh really?" Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Then whose fault is it, dear brother?"

"Snape's, of course. Stupid git," George remarked savagely, rubbing his ear.

"Does it hurt now?" Charlie asked, concerned, and Fred sat up immediately to look at George's response.

"No, it just… it just feels weird, you know? Just… different."

"Well, you can't see the difference anymore. Growing your hair out, are you?" Charlie asked, noting the twin's shaggy hair style which covered their ears, or in George's case, his lack of ear.

"Yeah, we're trying to rival Bill's" Fred joked.

"Not to sound offensive, but Bill pulls it off a lot better than you two," Charlie commented, leaning back in his chair. Fred shot him a look.

"How are we not meant to take that offensively?" He asked, holding a hand to his chest in mock pain. "You wound us with your hurtful words, Charlie."

"Well I'm very sorry," Charlie said sarcastically.

"Oh yeah, because you _sound_ very sorry," George said, nodding scathingly. Charlie poked his tongue out at George, and wound up with a pillow in his face.

"So what did you get each other for Christmas?" Charlie asked, slightly intrigued. The twins had always exchanged obscure presents, things they knew the other wanted that no one else knew about. The most memorable so far had been their twelfth birthday, when Fred had given George a strange squishy purple object which emitted a high squeak when sat on (and because George would hide it in the couch, it was sat on a number of times) and George had given Fred a new scarf because his old one had been lost in the Forbidden Forest during a late night adventure, unbeknownst to Molly and Arthur.

"Nothing," came the reply, in unison. Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing?" He repeated.

"Geez Charlie, and I'm the one with the missing ear," George remarked, shaking his head in disappointment. Charlie aimed a swat at George, missing completely.

"You guys always get each other presents." Charlie was rather confused.

"Yeah, well this year we decided not to."

"Why? I thought business was going really well?"

"It's nothing to do with money," Fred looked slightly affronted at the suggestion.

"Then why?"

"Well for starters, _this one_-" George pointed to Fred "-wouldn't let me out of his sight, and as a result I wouldn't be able to buy him anything without him seeing. But we also decided not to buy anything this year."

"Why?"

"We… we just figured there are some things more special about the holidays than exchanging gifts," Fred said softly.

"Like spending time with family," George continued.

"Being happy," Fred said thoughtfully.

"Being alive," George concluded, and Charlie felt a surge of shock and pride at how mature his younger brothers had grown up to be.

"Wait, but you made me buy you a present," Charlie recalled suddenly.

"Yes well," George began, eyes sparkling. "You're our older brother Charlie. It's your job to dote on us."

"In fact, if you hadn't brought us a present, you wouldn't be fulfilling your duty," Fred said.

"But what about the whole family time and being alive and happy?" Charlie asked incredulously.

"Well sure, that stuffs great and everything. But in the end, you need presents to make up Christmas." Fred said, looking at Charlie in disbelief. "Surely you know that by now Charlie?"

And Charlie grinned as he threw a pillow at Fred's head, somewhat relieved that his brothers hadn't quite matured yet.

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: George wants to learn to apparate by himself, but Fred isn't too happy with the proposition. <em>

_Thanks very much for reading, and please review! :)_


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Sorry this is a bit late guys, I just got home. As always, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed: **TeamGredAndForge**, **SlyDevil. COOKIES**, **Lamb**, **chocolateMnMs**, **midnightstar19**, **MaddyGervais**, **Dimcairien**, and **Aris1013**. I've said it before and I'll say it again: you guys are so awesome, and I really appreciate you taking the time to review. Thank you :) Right so, we're back to focusing on George's ear again, which is always good fun to write. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 12**

George sat heavily on Fred's bed. A sleepy Fred peered up at him from beneath his blankets.

"What's up George?" he asked groggily, his eyes already closing again.

"We need to talk." George replied promptly. He had been up for several hours thinking things over, and he finally felt ready to speak his mind. Fred merely turned to face the other direction, pulling his blankets closer.

"I thought you knew about the birds and the bees, Georgie," he mumbled, already half asleep again, voice muffled against his pillow. George laughed.

"Not _the_ talk, you idiot. Just _a_ talk."

Grumbling, Fred turned to face him.

"What do you want to talk about at-" he peered at his clock. "-Seven in the morning? Geooorge," he whined.

George cleared his throat. "I want to apparate by myself." He said. Fred was alert instantly, sitting up, blinking.

"No way in hell," he said firmly. George frowned.

"Fred, it's my decision."

"It's too dangerous," Fred argued.

"Fred, you're not mum." George said, wincing as the words left his mouth.

"Oh well spotted George," Fred shot back sarcastically. "Bloody genius, you are." George sighed, knowing how snappy Fred got when he was frustrated.

"What I mean is that I'm not asking for your permission. I'm asking for your help." George said resolutely. Fred stared at him, his anger slowly abating.

"Why?" He finally asked quietly.

"Because I can't keep relying on you all the time, Fred. It's not healthy for me, and it's not fair on you." Fred opened his mouth to protest, but George beat him to it. "I know you don't mind, but if we're in a dangerous situation, I need to be able to disapparate on my own."

"Then we'll just stay out of dangerous situations," Fred said, slightly desperate.

George raised an eyebrow. "Look, I thought that maybe the war would be finished by now, but it's not, and we have no idea how much longer it's going to last. We need to be prepared for the worst, and part of that involves me being able to apparate by myself. You know I'm right, Fred." George finished as he leant back slightly, allowing Fred some room to think.

Fred was quiet for a long time, looking conflicted. He finally sighed and bowed his head.

"Fine," he said unhappily. "You'll try it anyway, stubborn git that you are. I might as well be there. But if you want my help, then you have to do exactly what I tell you to do." George was slightly reluctant, but agreed nonetheless. He could try apparating by himself of course, and if Fred hadn't agreed to help, he would have. But he and Fred did everything together, and if George was honest, he preferred it that way. Things just seemed to work out better when they were together. Fred threw his covers back, interrupting George's train of thought.

"Let's get started then," he said, more resolutely than enthusiastically.

After washing up and eating breakfast, Fred and George cleared their living room, pushing the couches to the side, and stood in the centre. Fred carefully drew a fiery circle on the floor with his wand. Finally appearing satisfied with his work, he stood back.

"Ok, so first off, you have to apparate into this circle," he said. George groaned.

"Are you serious?"

"No, I'm Fred."

George shot Fred a look.

"Sorry, couldn't resist." Fred grinned, holding up his hands.

"Fred, I'm not re-learning how to apparate. I think I can manage something a little harder than apparating into the circle," George said, arms folded across his chest.

"Hey. You agreed that we do it my way. And my way starts off with you apparating into that circle." Fred pointed at the fiery circle, then folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting. George sighed, shooting Fred a far from happy glance before closing his eyes and focusing on the image of the circle currently a metre away. Taking a breath, he spun on the spot. A millisecond later, an overwhelming sense of nausea rose in his stomach; gasping, he opened his eyes to find that he was on his hands and knees, hair barely brushing against the floor as his head dropped further to his chest.

"George?" He heard Fred ask in alarm, rushing to his side. George swallowed, his head pounding, his vision swimming. He tried to speak but he barely felt in control of his body, focusing all his efforts on staying conscious. He could feel Fred's hands struggling to get him off the floor, and several moments and a lot of manhandling later George found himself on the couch, although he barely remember getting there.

"George? George can you hear me?" He could hear Fred asking frantically. George slowly opened his eyes and focus on the blurry image of his brother.

"Y-Yeah," he mumbled, fighting the strong urge to empty his stomach. Fred evidently noticed his slightly green tinged face, for a second later the small metal bin they owned was thrust into George's hands. And not a moment too soon; George lost the battle with his stomach, and retched into the bin. Fred patted his back comfortingly as George heaved almost violently, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the bin tightly. After several minutes George's stomach decided to stop trying to force itself out of his body and he pushed the bin to a side, wincing as the distinct aftertaste of vomit lingered at the back of his throat.

"Here," Fred offered him a glass of water, which George used to rinse out his mouth properly.

"Uuuuugh," he moaned. Fred grinned sympathetically, pointing his wand at the bin.

"Scourgify," he muttered and the contents vanished. He turned to George, who moaned again.

"Don't say it!" He exclaimed weakly, a hand held up in front of him in a vain attempt to block out Fred's next words.

"_I told you so!_"

"What happened?" George groaned, sitting up from his slumped position on the couch.

"Well, you did everything right. You turned, and then you disappeared. I thought you'd done it, but then you suddenly reappeared on the same spot, except on the floor. You looked like you were in a lot of pain," Fred finished, frowning.

"It feels worse than side-apparition," George told him. "So I didn't make it into the circle?"

"Not even close, George." Fred grinned slightly. George huffed and stood up somewhat shakily.

"Well, I suppose I'd better try again." He said. Fred's grin disappeared immediately.

"No way. Not after what just happened." Fred replied stubbornly, shaking his head.

"Fred, you obviously expected that I would have trouble apparating considering you wanted me to start with something so small."

"Not this much trouble!"

"Fred, relax. I'll stick to the circle, okay? Besides, I don't think I have anything left in my stomach to bring up," George reassured Fred, who still looked worried.

As it turned out, for a very good reason. George's next attempt found him in the same position as his first, only this time Fred didn't even have time to get him to the couch before his stomach rebelled. It was only through the quick use of 'accio' that Fred managed to get the bin to George in time, wincing as his twin dry heaved into the cylindrical metal container. George eventually released his death grip on the bin, looking miserable.

"Alright George, that's enough," Fred said sternly, moving the bin away after a quick cleaning spell.

"Just one more," George said determinedly, wiping his sleeve across his mouth shakily as he stood.

"George-"

"Help, not permission. Remember?" George shot at him. Fred bit his lip angrily, arms folded across his chest.

"Fine then. See if I care," he snapped, stepping away. George frowned at this but resolutely closed his eyes and focused. This time he didn't even manage to make it off the spot before he was struck by an intense dizziness. With a gasp of pain he slumped to the floor, and Fred, despite his previous comment, was by George's side in an instant.

"George?" He asked worriedly. George groaned. Fred shook his head and sighed as he half pulled George into his arms, seeing as George looked like he could barely support himself sitting up. "It's okay. You're alright, George." George let out a soft sigh as he rested his head against Fred's shoulder.

"You know, you're turning into me," Fred told George. He was rewarded with a raised eyebrow. "Don't give me that look. Since when have you been so stubborn?"

"Since… since it mattered," George mumbled, trying to blink away the dizziness unsuccessfully.

"Oh I see, so you think my stubbornness is completely inconsequential and pointless?" Fred asked.

"Well obviously." George grinned at Fred's affronted expression.

"Next time you can bloody well apparate on your own then," Fred said, although the slight hug he gave George spoke otherwise.

"So there will be a next time then?" George noted. Fred frowned, looking torn.

"Not today," he eventually responded. "Right, we have to get you into bed. Not in _that_ way," he added as George smirked at him, winking suggestively. Fred laughed at his twin's antics.

"Mate, we need to find you a girl," Fred commented as he rose to his feet.

"Well, in my defence you _are_ the best looking thing in this room apart from me," George informed him seriously.

"What do you mean, apart from you?" Fred asked, eyebrow raised. "I'm your twin."

"Fred, everyone knows I'm the better looking twin," George commented, grinning.

"Prat! We're identical," Fred shot back, aiming a swat at George's arm. George merely raised an eyebrow and pointed to the side of his head. Fred could feel a sinking sensation in his stomach, but he fought it off, grinning instead.

"The girls may flock around you, your holeyness, but I certainly will not." Fred said as he helped George to his feet.

George laughed, although as soon as he was upright his grin disappeared, replaced by a nauseated expression. Fred, noticing this, hurriedly hauled George to their bedroom and deposited him onto his bed. As George struggled to pull the blankets over himself, Fred went to the kitchen and grabbed a large glass of water and some food.

"Here," he said, handing George the glass. George took it eagerly, downing the water. Fred then handed him the crackers, chocolate and pastries he had grabbed from the kitchen.

"Indulge yourself," he told George. "And stay in bed."

"But Fred, its only 9am!" George protested feebly, already unwrapping a chocolate frog.

"George, you've been sick twice already, and if I'm not very much mistaken you're still feeling rather sick and your head is pounding. Which reminds me-" He placed the metal bin on the floor beside George's bed. "Now don't you go making a mess," he told George warningly. "And stay in bed!"

"What if I need to go to the bathroom?" George asked, eyes twinkling.

"What did I say about messes?" Fred asked. George grinned in response.

"Right, well I'm going to go downstairs and work on the Patented Daydream Charms," Fred said as he turned to leave.

"Wait- Fred!" George's tone was slightly desperate, and for a second Fred thought his brother was scared to be alone.

"Yeah?" He asked gently as he turned around.

"What do I do if I get bored?" George asked childishly. Fred fixed him an exasperated glance, but George was being perfectly serious. Neither twin was particularly good at staying in one spot for a long time. Fred walked to his bedside table and pulled out a battered, worn copy of _Flying with the Cannons _which he had… acquired (stolen) from Ron. He tossed it to George, who accepted it happily.

"Ta Fred," George called out to Fred's retreating back.

To his credit, George managed to wait several days before asking Fred about apparition practise again. To his relief Fred was easily won over, having apparently realised just how dangerous a situation George could find himself in when he couldn't even apparate a metre.

"But once you start feeling sick, we're stopping." Fred said firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. George reluctantly agreed.

Their second day of apparition didn't fare much better than their first. On the third day however, George managed to apparate into the circle on his last attempt. He promptly vomited straight after though, completely missing the bin and leaving Fred to wrinkle his nose and clean up after George. However both twins felt slightly more optimistic about George's ability and it was with some excitement (and apprehension of Fred's behalf) that George decided to try apparating from their flat to their shop on their fifth day of practise.

"Okay remember George, I'll be waiting at the far end of the Skiving Snackboxes isle. The _far_ end," Fred repeated for the sixth time. George sighed.

"I remember, Fred!" He exclaimed. Fred gnawed the side of his cheek anxiously before he turned and headed downstairs to their shop. They had planned it so that George would apparate two minutes after Fred left. George silently counted down the two minutes, speaking aloud as he reached the last five seconds.

"Five… Four…" George mumbled to himself, unaware that downstairs, Fred was doing the exact same thing.

"Three… Two…"

"One."

George closed his eyes and focused. With a deep breath, he spun on the spot. Instantly, he felt the crushing pressure weighing down on him, the nausea beginning to creep in, but he screwed up his face and concentrated harder. A second later, he felt hard floorboards under his feet. George staggered at the sudden impact, and would have crashed into the nearest shelf if Fred hadn't grabbed him.

"George, you did it!" Fred cheered loudly. George felt elated until the full impact of the dizziness hit him and his legs gave way, sending both him and Fred to the ground. "George?" He could hear Fred asking urgently. He struggled to open his eyes and reassure his brother.

"M' fine, Fred," he said, voice slurring slightly as he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. Fred's face was looming close by, peering at George worriedly.

"You don't look fine, you look terrible." Fred informed him bluntly.

"Well thank you for that heartfelt compliment," George said sarcastically as his vision cleared. Fred grinned despite his concern. George shifted uncomfortably, realising he was half lying on Fred's leg. He struggled to sit up, assisted by Fred. Eventually, Fred and George were sitting side by side.

"Are you okay?" Fed asked him. George nodded. There was an annoying ringing echoing in his ear, but the nausea he had initially felt seemed to be decreasing, and on the whole he felt much better than he thought he would.

"You did it," Fred repeated, this time with less exuberance but more pride.

"I did it," George echoed, grinning. His grin faded as he realised he had only travelled from their flat to the shop, a distance no greater than thirty metres at the most.

"What?" Fred prodded, noticing George's downcast expression.

"I only travelled that short distance. I'm still going to be stuck if I have to apparate from one place to another," George said dully.

"George, that's not the point! You managed to apparate to a destination that you couldn't see. You'll be able to apparate longer distances in no time!" Fred said encouragingly, and George couldn't help but grin at his twin's catching enthusiasm.

"I suppose it's an improvement from apparating into that circle," he noted.

"You're damn right it is," Fred said, grinning widely. He got to his feet, and turned to help George. "Come on, I'm starving. Let's go grab a celebratory meal."

"Where?"

"Where do you think? Home, of course! I'm not in the mood for a burnt dinner tonight."

"Why, were you planning on cooking?" George teased.

"Very funny."

"Right, so are we apparating then? Excellent, I could use the practise-" Fred cut George off.

"No way. You're done more than enough apparating for one day." Fred scolded lightly.

The two headed outside, locking the door behind them. Fred grabbed George's hand firmly in his own, as though worried George would apparate without him. George rolled his eyes at Fred's concern but didn't protest, instead tightening his own fingers around Fred's, his own way of thanking Fred for the help and support he had provided. Fred didn't say anything, but his palm was comforting against George's own as they closed their eyes, preparing to apparate together.

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: The revelation to the Ministry that Ron is assisting Harry puts the Weasley's in grave danger, and Fred and George find themselves being forced to evacuate. <em>

_Thanks for reading, and please review! :) _


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Wow. I could hardly believe when I saw it, but this story has officially passed 100 reviews! I never thought I'd see the day! I am truly awestruck by you guys… my wonderful reviewers who keep this story going. Not only have you guys been truly amazing with your consistent reviews, but I was actually quite stunned at the speed in which you reviewed the last chapter! Either I picked a really good time to post up the chapter, or you guys are extremely enthusiastic. Or a bit of both. Either way, enormous thanks to everyone who reviewed: **SlyDevil. COOKIES**, **TeamGredAndForge**, **Lamb**, **Dimcairien**, **ncis-lady**, **MaddyGervais**, **Aris1013**, **snitch-bewitch**, **midnightstar19**, and **chocolateMnMs**. You guys are just pure awesome. :D

Just to respond to the reviews of those I can't PM back:

**Lamb**: Glad you liked the other stories, and this one as well :)

**SlyDevil. COOKIES**: Haha well, I think half my chapters are slightly bipolar, because the mood of the chapter usually depends on the mood I'm in when I write it. But I'm glad you like the humour :) Also, I'm still not actually 100% sure how I'm going to end this. I'm leaning towards an ambiguous ending so that it could fit in with the books (as I originally intended it to be) but I'm a really indecisive person, so I still don't know.

**Chapter 13**

Fred and George were stacking shelves when there was a loud, urgent rapping on the door.

"Guys, it's me! Open up!" Both Fred and George were surprised to hear Bill's voice. Fred immediately moved to open the door, however George held up a hand to stop him.

'How do we know it's you?" He called through the door.

"You once turned all my underwear pink when you were eight," Bill replied, sounding half amused, half annoyed at the memory. With a grin, Fred opened the door. Bill has sworn them to secrecy about that prank, threatening to tell their mother they had stolen her wand if they ever revealed it to anyone. Although it was a difficult choice, the twins eventually decided they valued their life more, and so the prank remained undisclosed.

"Bill, what are you doing here?" Fred asked. Bill rushed into the shop, closing the door behind him. He turned to face the twins.

"You need to leave." He said firmly.

"What?" Fred asked, although he'd heard Bill clearly.

"The Ministry know Ron's helping Harry. They're coming after our family."

"What?" It was George this time, although he sounded more worried than disbelieving. "Is everyone okay?"

"Aunt Muriel's offered her house. You guys need to go _now_," Bill emphasised. "They could be here at any minute; they've already gone to the Burrow. Luckily we had forewarning. Everyone got out just in time." Fred and George exchanged a look before racing upstairs, Bill at their heels.

"Essentials only," Bill hollered as he followed them.

"Catch!" Fred threw a small bag at him. Bill easily caught it, then nearly dropped it.

"What the hell did you put in here?" He asked incredulously, struggling to sling the extremely heavy bag over his shoulder.

"Essentials," George shot back as he raced into their bedroom, apparently checking to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything.

"Do we need our brooms?" Fred's head poked around the corner of a door.

"Essentials, Fred!" Bill reprimanded.

"Just asking!"Fred said defensively as his head disappeared. He reappeared a few seconds later, wand in one hand, and a small picture frame in the other. Bill raised an eyebrow but didn't question as Fred placed the frame in the bag with an unusual tenderness.

"Okay, done." George ran out of their bedroom, tossing an overly large gold galleon at Fred, who tucked it into his pocket.

"Let's go," Bill urged. They ran back downstairs, the bag uncomfortably weighing down on Bill's shoulders.

"How are we getting there?" George asked, looking slightly nervous, although Bill attributed it to the possible threat of a Death Eater raid.

"Apparition. The house is protected by the Fidelius Charm, but we should be able to apparate nearby." Bill shifted the bag onto his other shoulder, missing the concerned glance Fred shot George. "Do you guys remember the field outside her house?"

"Yeah." Fred spoke for them both. He turned to look at George.

"Can you-" he began, but George cut him off.

"Yes," George said determinedly, but they could both detect the underlying fear in his voice. Outside, they could head voices growing louder as they approached the shop. Bill turned and nodded to the twins, who removed the wards surrounding their flat momentarily. Closing their eyes, Bill and the twins disapparated with a loud crack.

Bill landed on his feet with a great deal of force. The weight of the bag threw him off balance, and he stumbled slightly, trying to stay standing. Regaining his balance, he immediately glanced up to check on his brothers. To his surprise and concern, George was seated on the ground, struggling to stay conscious while Fred knelt beside him, pulling George into his arms.

"Just breathe George," Bill heard Fred say gently as he ran towards them, heart racing. Had they been attacked on the way? Was George sick?

"George, what-" Bill started to ask, but Fred glanced up and shook his head. Bill bit back the question currently on the tip of his tongue, fighting every brotherly instinct that was telling him to get George medical attention immediately.

"It's okay George, it'll go away," Fred was telling his twin, one hand rubbing George's back soothingly. George nodded slightly, his eyes squeezed shut, looking as though he was fighting the urge to hurl.

"Worse than the shop," he muttered, and although it sounded like complete rambling to Bill, Fred let out a small chuckle and pulled George closer to him.

"Well what did you expect? It's a few hundred kilometres further. But you did it George, you apparated by yourself," he said with an affectionate, proud grin. George merely groaned into Fred's side, and Bill couldn't take it anymore.

"Fred, what's going on? I thought George's ear was getting better," He demanded loudly, regretting it when George winced and twisted his head so his ear was resting against Fred's shoulder, trying to block out Bill's voice. Fred sighed, reluctantly looking up at Bill.

"It was. But ever since that attack on Diagon Alley, he's been having trouble. We've been practising, but he's never had to apparate so far before." George groaned slightly in agreement, and Fred tightened his grip protectively.

"Mum said George felt sick when he apparated, but she never said it was this bad…" Bill looked horrified that his younger brother was subjected to so much pain every time he apparated.

"She doesn't know. She thinks he's made a full recovery."

"Why?" Bill asked suspiciously.

"Because we told her so. And George was on his way to recovering, at least until the Death Eater attack," Fred said defensively as he saw Bill's disapproving look.

"Fred, you can't hide this from her," Bill began, but he was interrupted.

"Why? What possible good can it do to let mum know that George still collapses every time he apparates? She'll just worry and stress and I think she does enough of that already."

Bill sighed, knowing Fred was right but not liking their decision any more than he had before.

"Well you should have told me," Bill muttered. "I could have helped somehow." Fred looked at him for a moment.

"We didn't want to worry you," he offered, but Bill shook his head.

"I'm your older brother, Fred. It's my job to worry. Particularly about you two" he said, recalling the numerous times he had fished them out of trouble, healing their broken bones as children. Of all his younger siblings, Fred and George had always been the most adventurous, apart from Charlie, but that was a whole other story.

"We're nearly twenty Bill," Fred reminded him.

"It doesn't matter how old you guys are, you'll always be my younger brothers," Bill shot back. Fred gave him a strangely soft smile before looking at George, still huddled at his side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, concerned.

"Bit better. I think I can stand," George said, struggling to rise to his feet. Bill offered a hand, and a few seconds later George was on his feet, looking pale but not in danger of collapsing anytime soon. For the first time since they arrived, he and Fred looked around, noting with some surprise that there was no house nearby.

"Bill, what-" Fred started to ask, but stopped when Bill handed him and George a piece of paper.

"Fidelius charm remember? As the secret keeper, I need to tell you the address for you to be able to see the house," Bill explained. Fred and George nodded, and must have concentrated on the words because a second later Muriel's house appeared before them. They hadn't been to Muriel's since they were extremely young, so the several stories tall house, with its neatly kept garden and intimidating structure shocked them into silence for a few seconds.

"The old bat must be loaded," George eventually said, slightly awed. Bill laughed at the George's crude description.

"Come on you two," he ushered them closer to the house, adjusting the bag he was still carrying. They eventually reached the front door, Fred checking to make sure George wasn't going to collapse or pass out as a side effect of apparating before knocking sharply on the door.

It flung open immediately, and Fred let out a squeak as Molly attacked him with hugs and kisses.

"Fred! Oh, I was so worried about you and- George!" Molly released Fred from her death grip and turned to George, who had been standing behind his twin, smirking. His eyes widened when he realised what was awaiting him.

"Mum, no-" he began, but whatever he had planned on saying was suffocated out of him by Molly's enthusiastic arms. Fred was grinning at his twin's predicament when another pair of arms wrapped around his waist.

"Hello Ginny," Fred grinned warmly at his younger sister.

"I'm so glad you're both okay," Ginny mumbled, burying her face into Fred's shoulder. He patted her back awkwardly in an attempt to reassure her that he and George were alright, before lifting her up and spinning her around, laughing as Ginny squealed in surprise.

"Missed you too," he said softly and Ginny beamed at him.

"But not as much as I did," George said from behind him and Fred found himself once again released as Ginny launched herself at George, who stumbled back from the impact, still weak from their Mother's hug. Fred laughed, walking down the hallway before jumping back, startled, as Auntie Muriel suddenly appeared in front of him, scowling.

"Oh, you're here are you?" She sniffed, looking distastefully at him. "Where's your double? Goodness knows what Molly was thinking when she had you both, as if one at a time isn't bad enough…" George appeared at Fred's shoulder, interrupting Muriel's rant. "Ah, there you are! Still haven't fixed those ears, I see. You'll never find an attractive girl at this rate." Auntie Muriel didn't seem to notice that Fred was glaring fiercely at her. Molly quickly appeared at their side, pushing them past Muriel before Fred did anything drastic.

"I suppose you're both hungry?" She asked hurriedly, trying to drone out Muriel, who was now discussing methods of fixing lopsided body parts with Bill, who was looking pleadingly at their father to save him.

"Starving, we didn't have time to eat dinner before _Bill_ brought us here," Fred said loudly, and Bill shot him a relieved look as he escaped Muriel's loud one-sided conversation.

"What's up?" He prompted as he reached them.

"Just telling Mum how you rescued us like a knight in shining armour." George replied, smirking.

"Ungrateful gits," Bill said as he cuffed George lightly over the head.

"Boys! No violence in the kitchen," Molly scolded as she began preparing a meal for the twins.

"So how long have you been here then?" Fred asked Ginny, who was seated on a kitchen stool beside him.

"We only got here about an hour ago," she said, tapping her fingers nervously on the counter, obviously still feeling the adrenaline from their escape. "We barely made it out in time, they saw us leaving and tried to grab us, but they just missed. Mum made us dinner as soon as we got here. I think she just needed to do something, she was so worried they would get to you both."

"We're sorry we didn't come pick you up from Kings Cross," George said as he wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulder. "We were planning on dropping by the Burrow tomorrow, but I guess the fate's planned otherwise," he finished dramatically. Ginny snorted.

"It's alright," she replied fondly, placing her arms around Fred and George's shoulders. "As long as you promise to be my slaves for the next week." Fred and George exchanged a glance over Ginny's head.

"And what exactly does that entail?" Fred asked cautiously.

"Oh you know, making my bed, bringing me food whenever I want it, taking the rap if I play a prank and mum finds out… the usual." Ginny grinned sweetly up at her older brothers. George sighed.

"Two days?" He offered.

"Four," Ginny replied immediately.

"Three," Fred shot back.

"Three and one of your Patented Daydream Charms." Ginny smirked. Fred and George looked horrified.

"What do you want a Patented Daydream Charm for?" George all but squawked in shock. Fred's eyes had narrowed.

"When I get my hands on Harry-" he growled, and Ginny burst out laughing.

"Oh, you guys are so easy. I don't want your Patented Daydream Charms, I just wanted to see the look on your faces," she giggled. George looked at her in awe.

"Fred," he whispered. "We did it. We successfully passed on our pranking genes to one of our siblings." Ginny looked rather pleased until both Fred and George ruffled her hair, making it stick out at odd angles.

"Dinner's ready," Molly declared, interrupted the moment by placing two plates before the boys, who eagerly devoured the meal. Bill raised an eyebrow at his younger brother's animalistic displays.

"Well, I'd better head back home mum, Fleur will be worrying about me," he said, shrugging on his coat. Molly gave him a tearful hug, followed by Ginny.

"Bill, thanks-" Fred began, but Bill waved away his gratitude.

"You two just stay safe, okay? Particularly you George, I want to hear if anything happens," he said warningly. George nodded, and Bill ruffled his hair affectionately. "I'll see you guys later."

"Say hi to Fleur for us!" Fred yelled as Arthur showed Bill out.

"Stop hitting on my wife, Fred!" Bill joked back, and both Fred and George chuckled.

"Alright, it's getting quite late and I think it would be best if we all went to bed," Molly insisted as Arthur walked back into the room.

"But Mu-um…" Fred, George and Ginny all groaned.

"No buts. Fred and George, we have a spare room ready for you," Molly said as she ushered them up the stairs. Fred stopped to grab their bag, which was resting on the floor.

"And I don't want to hear any weird noises from anyone, thank you very much," Auntie Muriel suddenly proclaimed, glaring at the three adolescents, who looked slightly surprised.

"What classifies as a weird noise?" Fred whispered. George shrugged.

"No clue, but I'm guessing it includes anything fun, entertaining or interesting," he said gloomily. They passed the first landing, where Auntie Muriel bid them a haughty goodnight, and continued to the second landing.

"Here we go," Molly proclaimed, opening a door on the left. Fred and George peered in, seeing two beds and not much else in the room.

"Sleep well boys," Arthur said, as he and Molly left for their own bedroom. Ginny, who was in a room several doors down, gave them a hug before leaving. George sighed as he closed the door, turning to their practically empty room. Fred had already claimed one of the beds and was seated upon it, opening their bag and digging a hand in.

"Now where did I put it…" he mumbled, before withdrawing his hand, his pyjamas clutched in his fist.

"Good thing we put that undetectable extension charm on it," George commented as he sat on his own bed. Fred threw George's sleepwear at him.

"Good thing we had it packed," Fred replied back as he pulled out the photo frame he had put in the bag and set it on the dresser facing them across the room. Their family waved back at them as Fred continued unpacking. If Bill had been able to see the contents of the bag, the weight of it would have made a lot more sense; Fred began hauling out clothes, shoes, prank items, a folded up tent, cooking utensils, sleeping bags and blankets.

"Fred, what are you looking for?" George asked with raised eyebrows as he observed the growing pile.

"These!" Fred proclaimed, holding up their stash of Bertie Botts, Chocolate Frogs, and several other sweets.

"Brilliant," George said as he grabbed the boxes and placed them on the dresser beside the frame. Both he and Fred shrugged on their sleepwear, dumping their clothes lazily on the ground before heading to the bathroom to brush their teeth.

"How did it feel, apparating today?" Fred asked just as George began brushing his teeth. "And don't say 'worse than the shop' again." He was rewarded with several minutes of nothing but the sound of bristles hitting teeth until George finally spat into the sink and rinsed out his mouth.

"It was painful," George summarised slowly, thinking back. "Worse than anything we practiced."

"Worse than losing your ear?" Fred asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Different to losing my ear. Although I suppose in both situations I was struggling to stay conscious," George reminisced as he towelled his face.

Fred sighed. "George…"

"Hey, it's fine. I can do it, it's not that bad," George said gently. Fred looked at him, still concerned. "I mean it. I can handle it Fred, don't worry. Now brush your teeth," he ordered, channelling their mother, and Fred grimaced as he picked up his toothbrush. He flipped open the cap of their toothpaste, and squeezed hard. The minty toothpaste soared out of the tube, eventually landing on George's forehead. George went slightly cross eyed as he attempted to look at it, before lowering his gaze to glare at Fred, who looked sheepishly back at him.

"My bad?" He offered, gulping as George advanced on him.

Several minutes and a number of loud thumps later, the door to their room opened and Molly came rushing in.

"What on earth-" She began before pausing at the sight before her. Fred and George were both covered in toothpaste, which was smeared into their hair, their clothes, and the floor. George currently had Fred in a headlock, although both of them were laughing too much to cause any pain to the other. The stopped as soon as Molly entered, gazing up at her with wide eyes. She stared back at them, wearing a shocked expression. Moments later, Arthur came running in, coming to a halt beside his wife.

"What… happened?" Arthur asked slowly, gazing at his sons. To his complete shock, Molly burst out laughing.

"Molly?" Arthur asked in alarm, slightly fearful for her sanity. She looked at him through the tears in her eyes, still giggling.

"Mum, are you alright?" George asked as he released Fred from the headlock. She wiped the tears from her eyes before stepping forward and pulling both Fred and George into her arms. They didn't protest, still slightly shocked at her reaction.

"You two…" Molly didn't seem to know what to say, instead releasing them and giving them a watery smile before rushing out of the room. Arthur shot them a slightly perturbed grin before following her, leaving the twins alone in the toothpaste covered bathroom. George turned to Fred, eyebrows raised.

"What was that all about?" He asked. Fred shrugged, grinning as he looked at George's toothpaste streaked hair.

"No clue, but we should probably clean up before she regains her sanity and comes back to tell us off," he commented, picking up his wand and cleaning themselves and the bathroom up with a quick wave. George checked himself in the mirror to make sure Fred hadn't 'accidentally' missed any spots. Satisfied, he turned back to Fred, who was once again attempting to sneak out of the bathroom.

"Fred! Brush your teeth!"

Several minutes later, a grumpy Fred was climbing into bed. George was already settled in, shifting to try and adjust to the new mattress and sheets.

"You know, one good thing did come of this," George commented as Fred lay down.

"What?" Fred sounded tired, reminding George of the close encounter they had experienced only a few hours before.

"Well, they found out that Ron is helping Harry. That means-"

"That Harry, Ron and Hermione are still out there." Fred finished, understanding.

"Exactly. They're alive and fighting." George concluded.

"That is good," Fred murmured, and George nodded into his pillow. It was with this optimistic thought that they drifted off to sleep, their family waving happily out to them from within the picture frame, a reminder of younger, more innocent times.

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: Fred and George can only take so much of being cooped up at Muriel's. They come up with a plan to leave, but some members of their family are less than happy about it. <em>

_Thanks for reading, and please review! :)_


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Phew! Longest chapter yet. Hopefully its quality is equivalent to its quality! Gigantic thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Have I mentioned how awesome you guys are? Well, I'll gladly say it again. **MaddyGervais**, **SlyDevil. COOKIES**, **Dimcairien**, **chocolateMnMs**, **Amanda**, **cutietrp**, **TeamGredAndForge**, **Aris1013**, **My-Toxic-Wings**, and **Shhayy-j11**, you guys are truly wonderful. :)

Just to answer a few things:

**Amanda**: Yeah, I actually completely forgot that Ginny would have been through some kind of hell in Hogwarts. Thanks for reminding me though! I tried to address that in this chapter; not sure how well it worked, but yes. :)

**SlyDevil. COOKIES**: Well I think 18 chapters? I've written all except one. And it _is_ dangerous, but since when has that stopped them? Thank you, I'm glad you have faith in the ending :D

**Chapter 14**

Life at Muriel's was very different for Fred and George.

For starters, living with Muriel herself was driving them crazy. She would often appear suddenly, commenting on George's ears, their "hooligan haircuts", and the fact that they had chosen such an "unorthodox career path which will only lead to poverty" despite the numerous times she was told that business had been booming before the war.

Then there was the fact that they could not leave the house. While Arthur seemed inclined to let them go outside, if only to get some fresh air, Molly was adamant that they stay indoors, worried that they would be seen. This was driving Fred and George insane; despite the fact that they had packed an extensive amount of junk in their small bag, they had failed to bring their ingredients to create new inventions. Molly's restriction meant they had no access to any materials, leaving them with nothing to do other than clean the house.

Muriel was particularly delighted at this, often seating herself in an armchair and directing them.

"Ginevra, stop attacking your brothers. You shouldn't be partaking in such unladylike behaviour. Clean the cupboards instead."

"Move the table to the left. No, not that far! Are you blind as well as deaf?"

"Honestly, how difficult is it? Simply move those plates to that cupboard. I hardly think it requires much effort."

Fred glowered at Muriel, who seemed oblivious to his anger.

"Why doesn't she do it herself, the old hag?" He growled softly to George, who was helping him move the plates. George shrugged, hauling his pile into the cupboard.

"Don't know, but I'm going stir crazy here," he replied. Fred nodded in agreement, wincing as Muriel told him off.

"Well don't just stand there bouncing your head, put the plates away!"

Then there was the revelation made by Ginny about her time in Hogwarts. She's been rather vague about it whenever Fred or George asked, finding an excuse to leave the room immediately. This thoroughly confused the twins, who had never seen her so evasive since she'd developed a crush on Harry.

"Ginny, what's up?" Fred prompted one night as they sat on the rug by the fire, playing a game of exploding snap. "What happened at Hogwarts?"

"What? Nothing!" Ginny half yelped, dropping her stack of cards in surprise. She hastily gathered them up, slightly flushed.

"Ginny, we can tell something's up." George informed her solemnly. "You're not telling us something important."

"What do you mean? I've told you everything," Ginny replied, and if it hadn't been for her flushed cheeks, they almost would have believed her. Instead they both raised an eyebrow and waited for her to tell them the truth. With a loud sigh, Ginny dropped her cards on the floor again, and intertwined her fingers nervously.

"You know Hogwarts is run by Snape," she began, and both Fred and George nodded encouragingly. "Well, I don't know if you heard but he brought in two new members of staff. Death Eaters, of course."

"The Carrows," Fred muttered, vaguely remembering reading the name in a newspaper. Ginny nodded.

"What do they teach?" George asked curiously.

"Amycus teaches the Dark Arts. And his sister Alecto teaches Muggle Studies. But that's not all they do. They're also in charge of punishment."

"What kind of punishment?" Fred asked, dreading the answer.

"They err… mostly beat us up. They've tortured a few students too," Ginny added, avoiding their eyes.

"What?" George hissed.

"Yeah, they'd get students to 'practise' the Cruciatus curse on students who were in detention and-" Ginny was interrupted by Fred and George both leaping to their feet, looking utterly furious.

"Did they use it on you?" Fred demanded loudly.

"Fred-"

"Did they?" He asked again. Ginny paused before nodding. George swore loudly, kicking over a nearby vase which shattered into tiny pieces.

"I'm going to kill them," Fred growled, turning and leaving the room, George right behind him. Ginny jumped to her feet and ran after them.

"No! Guys stop, this is exactly why I didn't tell you both; I knew you'd react like this!" Ginny shouted, trying to stop Fred from opening the door.

"Ginny, move," George said in a low voice. She shook her head furiously, blocking the door.

"What's going on?" Arthur asked as he came downstairs, Molly behind him.

"We're going to Hogwarts to pummel the Carrows, that's what," Fred replied, his fists clenching.

"What? Don't be ridiculous," Molly replied, her voice tense.

"Did you know? About Ginny and everyone else at Hogwarts, did you know?" George demanded as he approached their parents. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Yes," Arthur finally replied, and George swore again.

"George!" Molly reprimanded.

"You knew and you let her go?" Fred asked disbelievingly, still trying to reach the door but Ginny was stronger than she looked.

"We had no choice! We only found out during the school term, so we had to wait for the holidays to bring her back or else they'd get suspicious," Molly replied almost tearfully.

"So you just left her there." George let out a hollow laugh. "I don't believe this."

"They didn't have a choice," Ginny repeated from behind him. "They couldn't do anything, and neither can you."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Fred asked, his voice quiet but furious, looking between Ginny and their parents. "Why did you try and hide it?"

"Because we knew you would react like this," Arthur replied, gesturing towards the situation they were in.

"So you thought by keeping this from us you were protecting us?" George asked sardonically. "That's bollocks; we have just as much a right to know as you do."

"Okay look, we're sorry for not telling you. It wasn't right."

"You're damn right!" Fred shot back angrily. Molly didn't bother telling him off.

"And we're sorry, we truly are. But you have to promise you won't go gallivanting off to Hogwarts. It won't do any good, and you'll just put yourselves and everyone else in danger." Arthur stepped down until he was eye to eye with the twins. "Okay?"

George shot a look at Fred. As much as they wanted to go to Hogwarts, they were both well aware that they had no plan and a slim chance of success if they did somehow manage to get into Hogwarts. Fred held George's gaze for a second before bowing his head, and George understood.

"Fine," he finally replied harshly, walking back into the living room, although not before shoot one last glare at his parents. Fred followed him silently, fixing them his own glare, and after pause, so did Ginny. Sighing, Molly and Arthur returned upstairs.

In the living room, Fred was pacing while George sat slumped on a couch, facing the fire. Ginny cautiously approached the two, perching on the edge of the armchair.

"I'm sorry for not telling you," she said, breaking the silence. Both Fred and George looked up silently, their anger suppressed for the time being.

"How about we make a deal never to hide anything from each other again?" Fred suggested after a moment's pause. George and Ginny both nodded eagerly. Another silence fell upon the occupants of the room.

"Do they beat up everyone?" George finally asked, his voice still low.

"No, just those of us who fight back," Ginny replied.

"Fight back?" Fred repeated.

"Yeah, we… we kind of formed a resistance group," Ginny said with a faint smile. "Mostly members of the DA, but there were a few others. We'd just try and cause trouble. Show them that they didn't have full control over us, you know?"

George patted the seat beside him, and Ginny sat down, Fred crossing the room to sit on her other side. All three leant back, resting against the cushions.

"We'd tell you off for putting yourself in unnecessary danger," Fred began.

"But it would be a bit hypocritical because we would have done the same thing," George finished with a faint grin. Ginny beamed at them.

"You sure you're alright though?" Fred asked, still concerned.

"I'm fine. I'll be better once we can go back and rescue everyone," Ginny replied solemnly. Fred and George nodded in understanding.

"I'll feel better once we get to Hogwarts and beat the stuffing out of these Carrows," George said viciously.

"'Ear 'ear," Fred replied, only half joking. A comfortable silence filled the room until-

"Who broke my antique vase?"

The three groaned loudly.

"I can't take this much longer," Fred said in an undertone as he and George walked to their bedroom one night, thoroughly worn out from the work Muriel had them doing. It had only been a week since they had left their flat, but it felt like much longer. The tension between the twins and their parents had finally ceased, and things were back to normal, but both Fred and George were feeling claustrophobic from being stuck indoors for so long.

"What can we do?" George asked gloomily. He turned to Fred, only then noticing the gleam in his eyes. "What?" He asked curiously.

"We could get out of here," Fred replied, looking excited.

"And go where?" George asked incredulously.

"Lee," Fred replied promptly, and George could have smacked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

"Of course! Potterwatch," he murmured, and Fred nodded.

"Exactly. Now's as good a time as any," Fred said, and George nodded before he was struck by a thought.

"Mum would never let us leave though," he replied, disheartened, and Fred sighed.

"Yeah, that's the only flaw in my brilliant plan," he said sadly.

"Although maybe if we got dad on our side first…" George's voice trailed off as he shot Fred a contemplative look. Fred caught on immediately.

"Oh yeah, that might just work. It'll be difficult though, and we'll have to try and keep Muriel away. I think she enjoys watching us clean, the sadistic old b- oh, hi mum!" Fred beamed at Molly, who eyed him suspiciously before walking away.

"Close call," George muttered as they snuck upstairs.

"I think I'm losing my touch," Fred mumbled back worriedly as they ascended the staircase. Once in their room, they shut the door, intending on doing some serious planning.

Several days later, they had come up with a foolproof plan. Well actually, it wasn't very foolproof; there were a number of things that could- and most likely would- go wrong, but that had never stopped Fred and George before, and it sure as hell wasn't going to stop them now.

"Dad," Fred began as he and George cornered Arthur in one of the many side rooms. Arthur looked up from the rubber duck he had been toying with.

"Yes?" He asked apprehensively, recognising the looks on their faces.

"Well see, we were thinking…"

It took a _lot_ of convincing. But in the end, they managed to win Arthur over.

"Well I can see you've got it all planned out. You really want to do this, don't you." It was more of a statement than a question, but the twins nodded nonetheless.

"Well, you're adults now. It's your decision to make, and even if I don't like it, I'll support it."

"Thanks dad," Fred said gratefully.

"Your mother on the other hand is going to be very difficult to convince." Arthur cringed as he pictured what Molly's response would be.

"Yeah, we were kind of hoping you could help us with that," George replied with an encouraging smile. Arthur's eyes widened.

"Oh, no," he said, backing away. "No no, your mother's already angry at me for bringing my 'toys'." He held up the rubber duck sadly. "She tried to throw it away, said it was a waste of space. You should see what she did to the remote control I brought."

"Please dad," Fred begged. "You know she won't take us seriously otherwise."

"We don't expect you to say much dad," George hurried on. "Just you know, back us up a bit?"

Arthur sighed, but he had never been particularly good at resisting the twin's pouts. He reluctantly agreed to help them convince Molly, grinning slightly when Fred and George did one of their victory dances in response.

Fred and George headed back upstairs, grinning broadly as they discussed in hushed whispers how they were going to convince Molly to let them go.

"What are you two up to?" A voice asked from a nearby room. The twins started, spinning around with guilty expressions on their faces to find Ginny staring at them.

"Nothing." They said simultaneously, but Ginny merely raised an eyebrow. Fred and George exchanged a quick glance, making sure their mother or Muriel weren't around before pulling her into their bedroom.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked as they shut the door behind them.

"We're going to get out of here." Fred replied. Ginny's eyebrows rose.

"What?" She asked, blinking.

"You know how Lee's running Potterwatch? Well, we've decided to join him!" George said enthusiastically.

"That's… wait, you mean you're leaving me behind? _Again?_" Ginny's jaw was set, her eye's hard.

"Ginny, we're sorry," Fred said apologetically but Ginny shook her head.

"Why do you have to go?" She asked, voice shaking. "Why can't you stay here with me?"

"Because being cooped up here is driving us crazy," George replied. "And we want to help with the war."

"So take me with you," Ginny said, slightly hopeful. "Take me with you to Potterwatch. I want to help too."

"Ginny, we can't. The only reason we got dad on our side is because we're both considered adults now, capable of making our own decisions. I think we'd be disowned if we suggested taking you with us." Fred explained, only half joking.

"You can't just leave me," Ginny exclaimed, stamping her foot in frustration. George sighed, understanding how Ginny felt, knowing the frustration well because hadn't he and Fred had felt the same way beforehand, when they were left out of the loop?

"Gin, we can't take you," he said, repeating Fred's earlier words. "We're sorry, but we _can't_." Ginny bit her lip, eyes tearing up with frustration as she folded her arms across her chest. Fred stepped forward, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Ginny," he said softly, and all of a sudden the frustration on Ginny's face was gone, replaced by an intense sadness.

"I don't want you to go!" She exclaimed before flying into Fred's arms. He grabbed her tightly, signalling with his head for George to come over.

"We know," Fred said soothingly, resting his chin on the crown of her head. "But we need to do this. You understand, right?" Ginny nodded into his chest, her words muffled by his shirt.

"Sorry, didn't catch that Ginny," George said, frowning as he moved his head closer. Ginny lifted her head from Fred's chest and looked up at George.

"I said you're a stubborn pair of gits." She said clearly and George chuckled.

"And proud of it," he replied with a wink. Ginny laughed through her tears, gazing adoringly at her brothers.

"You promise to stay safe?" She asked. Fred and George nodded together. "And you promise to cause as much mayhem as possible?"

"Well, that seems to contradict your first question, but of course we will." George replied with a cheeky grin.

"Well then my dear brothers," Ginny said as she withdrew herself from Fred's embrace. "I can't ask for much more."

Fred and George were rather pleased with how their father and Ginny had taken the news. Needless to say however, Molly wasn't as understanding.

"ARE YOU INSANE?" She shrieked, striding towards them with a tea towel clutched in her hand. "I will not allow you to get yourselves killed for a radio station!

"It's not just any radio station mum!" Fred protested.

"I don't care!" Molly snapped piercingly.

"Molly, they're overage now," Arthur said weakly. Molly turned on his immediately, eyes flashing.

"Just because they're overage does _not_ mean they should embark on a reckless wild goose chase to try and find the broadcaster of a pirate radio station!" Molly's tea towel was being flung around now as her arms attempted to keep up with her voice.

"It's not a wild goose chase mum, we decided with Lee ages ago where Potterwatch could be held. We came up with five separate locations, so we just have to go and check which-"

"And what happens if there are Death Eaters at one of those locations?" Molly snapped.

"Then we get out of there as quickly as we can," George replied solemnly.

"No. I absolutely refuse to let you do this." Fred opened his mouth to speak but Molly cut him off with a warning look. "And don't give me that 'we're overage' nonsense. You're still my sons, and I refuse to let you put yourselves in danger."

"So you let Ron put himself on the frontline but not us?" George said indignantly.

"Ron was different. He's with Harry and Hermione-"

"Who are all two years younger than us!"

"I didn't want any of them to go! But Dumbledore gave them a mission which will help us win-"

"We want to fight too!" Fred exclaimed. "What use is it sitting here at home when we could be out there doing something beneficial?"

"Because at least in here you won't die!" Molly yelled. There was a pause as her eyes filled with tears. Behind her, Arthur was gazing sadly at her and the twins. George's face softened as he stepped closer to her, resting a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

"Mum, keeping us locked away indoors isn't going to keep us safe," he said gently. "In the end, our safety depends on the outcome of this war."

"It's so dangerous." Molly looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Since when have we shied away from danger, mum?" George asked dryly.

"But… but your ear," Molly hiccoughed, reaching out with a shaky hand to the side of George's head. George shot a glance at Fred, who was staring stonily at the kitchen counter.

"My ear's fine mum," George said soothingly.

"You'll go regardless of what I say, won't you?" Molly asked unhappily, recognising the determination in her sons.

"Yes." Fred replied defiantly. Molly fixed her gaze on him for a moment before sighing and bowing her head.

"Well I guess there's no use in me trying to deter you." Molly blinked back tears as she focused on George. "When will you be leaving?

After a lengthy discussion over the details, Fred and George finally headed upstairs for bed, feeling rather exhausted at the range of emotions they had experienced from their family members. George fell asleep quite quickly, however he woke up an hour later with the feeling that something was off. Glancing across the room, he realised what was wrong; Fred was nowhere to be seen.

Frowning, George rose from his bed and checked the bathroom, before walking outside to the hallway. He peered downstairs, and in the silence of the house he heard quiet voices murmuring from the kitchen. George quietly made his way down the staircase. The voices became more distinct as he grew closer, and his eyes widened as he recognised Fred's voice followed by their mother's. George snuck towards the kitchen, curious as to what his mother and Fred were discussing.

"… know how you feel," he heard Fred say quietly. George paused by the doorway, making sure he couldn't be seen.

"Fred, that's sweet, but I'm the mother of seven children. I don't think any of you quite understand how I feel," he heard Molly reply wryly.

"He's my twin, mum," Fred responded, and George felt his stomach swoop slightly as he realised what, or rather whom, they were talking about. "So I do understand. I understand that you worry about us whenever we're out of your sight, and I know that you're terrified we might get hurt and you won't be there to help us. I know because I have the same feelings all the time."

"Oh Fred," George heard Molly whisper tearfully, and he gathered that she had pulled Fred into a hug, judging by the silence in the room. He had to force himself not to run into the room and do the same; instead, he stayed put, leaning against the wall.

"I promise I won't let anything happen to George mum," Fred said quietly, slightly muffled by what George assumed was their mother's shoulder.

"And what about you? Who's going to look after you?" Molly asked

"I don't need looking after," Fred shot back, slightly indignant. "But George has my back. He'll be there for me if I need him." George heard Molly sniff, and decided that he had heard enough. He silently crept back upstairs to their room, making sure to avoid the steps that creaked. He had been lying in bed for five minutes, lost in his thoughts, when Fred entered their bedroom quietly. He closed the door and took a deep breath before turning around to face George.

"How much did you hear?" Fred asked softly.

"Not much," George answered truthfully as he sat up, not bothering to ask how Fred knew he had overheard them. "But it was enough." Fred moved further into the room, sitting cross legged on his own bed, facing George.

"Well I meant it," he said, voice tinged with embarrassment, but still firm. "I'm not …. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"And I'm not going to let anything happen to you," George replied.

"Well, I'm glad we've got that settled then." Fred said with a small smile. A slightly awkward silence filled the room as Fred fidgeted uncomfortably with the hem of his blanket. George finally rose from his bed and crossed the room, taking a seat beside Fred.

"We're going to be fine. You know that, right?" George asked quietly, bumping Fred's shoulder.

"I'm not worried about myself, I'm worried about you. Mum's right, what if something happens to your ear and-"

"Fred," George interrupted. "Nothing's going to happen to my ear, alright? I can apparate now, I'm in no more danger that you are."

"I know," Fred replied, but his tone was uncertain.

"Nothing's going to happen to either of us," George said firmly. "You've got my back and I've got yours. Right?" Fred nodded, rubbing at his eyes. "Then we're good?" George asked encouragingly.

"Yeah. We're good." Fred offered George a small smile. George wrapped his arm around Fred's shoulder, pulling him into a one-armed hug. Fred rested his chin on George's shoulder, his breath warm against George's ear, and George tightened his grip on Fred's shoulder for a moment before letting go. Fred took a deep breath as though composing himself before he gave George a hearty shove.

"Now get off my bed, you sap," he said with a grin. George complied, getting into his own bed and covering himself with blankets. He could hear Fred doing the same across the room.

"Goodnight Fred," he called out quietly, hearing their mother walking to her bedroom softly.

"Night George."

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: Fred and George embark on their mission to find Lee and Potterwatch, but not everything goes to plan and they find themselves in serious danger. <em>

_Thanks for reading, and please review! :) _


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Thanks to** Lamb, ncis-lady, TeamGredAndForge, Aris1013, MaddyGervais, Dimcairien, snitch-bewitch, SlyDevil. COOKIES, chocolateMnMs **and **My-Toxic-Wings**.And **midnightstar19 **in advance? Haha, well yes. It's honestly the best feeling to come home after a loooong day to find your lovely reviews waiting for me to read, so thank you all_ very_ much. Hope you all enjoy the chapter! I keep editing it... not sure if I'm 100% satisfied with it still.

**SlyDevil. COOKIES**: Haha, you really do like The Lion King! It's an awesome movie though :D And yes, Muriel's annoying me too! But thank you, your words are incredibly sweet :)

**Lamb**: Yep, I am doing a chapter about Fred and George's birthday (how could I not!). It's… oh, it's actually the chapter after this, haha. Thanks for reviewing!

**Chapter 15**

"You've got everything you need?" Molly asked for the tenth time in twenty minutes. George sighed, heaving his bag over his shoulder.

"Yes mum," he repeated for the tenth time. Molly ruffled his hair affectionately before pressing several sandwiches into his hand.

"In case you get hungry," she said fondly, knowing full well how much Fred and George were capable of eating. They could give Ron a run for his money when they were hungry.

"Thanks mum." George replied with a grin, kissing her cheek. She sniffed slightly before returning to her previous activity of bustling around the kitchen. Fred came running downstairs with his own bag, Ginny at his heels. They had decided to split the contents of their bag between the two of them after Fred had nearly fallen downstairs carrying it, scaring the living daylights out of Muriel who had been walking upstairs at the time.

"Right, all set George?" Fred asked with an eager grin.

"Yep, good to go!" George replied enthusiastically.

"Now you two be careful," Molly warned as she gave each twin a warm hug.

"We will mum," they chorused.

"Stay safe," Arthur said quietly as he embraced them.

"Remember what you promised me," Ginny winked at them, laughing as she pulled them into a hug. "I love you."

"Love you too Ginny."

"Oh, you're off then are you? Couldn't be bothered to say a thank you, I suppose. Younger generation, never any time for manners," Muriel grumbled.

"Thank you Auntie Muriel, for letting us stay here," George said gracefully, with only a hint of sarcasm detectable in his voice.

"Your hospitality was, as always, remarkable," Fred continued with a winning smile.

"And we hope to see you soon. Perhaps you would care to come visit our joke shop? It's the least we could offer after everything you've done." George bit back a laugh at the horrified look on Muriel's face at the mention of their shop.

"Never mind, off you go then," she said hurriedly before walking out of the room again. Fred and George laughed while Ginny stifled a giggle.

"Well, you heard the old- I mean, you heard Auntie Muriel," Fred backtracked, realising his parents were in the room. "We'd better be off. Don't be sad mum, we'll be fine." He flashed a winning grin at his parents and Ginny before heading outside, George behind him. The family stood at the doorway, waving at the twins.

"So did you explain it all to Ginny?" George asked once they were out of earshot.

"Yeah. We hid most of the stuff in Muriel's backroom; hopefully mum won't check," Fred replied. They had recently received several letters from their regular customers requesting products. Fred and George couldn't go back to their shop, however they had managed to fit a lot of their items in the bag they had brought, and therefore had the brilliant idea of starting an Owl Order business from Muriel's. It had been successful so far, however rather than delivering from wherever Lee was hiding, they had decided to leave Ginny in charge of the business while they were away.

"Ready?" Fred asked, once they were about a hundred metres from the house, out of range of the anti-apparition charm. George nodded, and the two apparated to their first destination.

George stumbled at the sudden impact as his feet landed on hard cobbles. He immediately slumped to his left against a wall.

"George?" He heard Fred ask agitatedly, and seconds later his cool palms were resting against George's face and neck.

"'M okay," George mumbled, his eyes still closed, knowing that the world would be spinning if he opened them. Bile was rising in the back of his throat but George swallowed, forcing it down. A few moments later, he reluctantly opened his eyes to find Fred standing in front of him, wand out and pointed behind George.

"What is it?" George asked quietly, turning and seeing nothing unusual. Fred shook his head, eyes narrowing as he moved George slightly to his left, giving Fred a better view of the street beyond him.

"It sounded like…" His voice cut off as his eyes grew wide, and George turned around again to see several masked, robed figures rapidly approaching, their wands raised.

Fred gripped George's arm tightly and disapparated with a loud crack. George could feel the darkness surrounding him, but then suddenly there were flashes of colour and a hand gripped his other arm. Looking down, he found one of the Death Eater's clamped onto his arm; the Death Eater was baring his teeth, struggling to separate George from Fred. George struggled wildly, trying to twist his arm out of the Death Eater's grip but to no avail. Around them, he could see flashes of different places; Fred, having noticed they had an unwelcome companion, seemed to be trying to shake him off. There was a flash of a forest followed by an old house George vaguely recognised from Ottery St Catchpole.

George was now using his legs to try and kick off the Death Eater, who was still gripping his arm tightly. Finally, he lowered his mouth and sank his teeth into the Death Eater's hand. It worked; the Death Eater let out a howl of pain and surprise as his wand fell from his hands into oblivion, and his grip on George loosened. Feeling victorious, George gave another good kick and the Death Eater lost his grip on George's arm, falling. However just when George thought they had lost him, his hand reached out and grabbed Fred's foot with a vice like grip. Fred, startled, lost his concentration and the world suddenly crashed into focus as they landed unexpectedly.

George lay on his back, struggling to breathe, the wind completely knocked out of him. He was vaguely aware of a strangled gasping noise, and it took him several seconds to realise the noise was coming from him. Coughing and gasping, he rolled onto his side, finally managing to intake some much needed oxygen. A loud growl interrupted his wheezes, and he glanced up in time to see the Death Eater, now wandless, launching himself at Fred who was still lying on the ground, his hands tightening around Fred's throat.

"No!" George yelled, scrambling to his feet unsteadily, but the Death Eater didn't seem to hear. His meaty hands were clenching Fred's throat, and Fred was struggling to breathe, his face slowly developing a blue tinge, his struggles becoming less pronounced as he began to lose consciousness. His hands were clawing desperately at the Death Eater's, but the Death Eater maintained his firm hold on Fred's neck, shaking Fred slightly.

George aimed his wand at the Death Eater, trying to clear his vision. There were three Death Eaters and three Fred's before him, and he blinked, trying to figure out which was the real one. Fred's eyes- all six- were beginning to flutter, his hands dropping to the ground, and at that moment George knew that if he didn't act now, he'd lose his brother. He picked a Death Eater, and aimed his wand.

"Stupefy!"

To his surprise and relief, the Death Eater went soaring back, stunned. He landed with a loud thump but George barley noticed as he ran over to Fred, his heart racing.

"Fred! Fred?" He asked urgently, skidding on his knees to a halt beside his twin. Fred rolled onto his side, gasping for air, his hands curled weakly into the dirt beneath him. George helped support his head, his other hand resting on Fred's shoulder. Already angry red marks were beginning to blossom on Fred's neck as he wheezed and coughed harshly.

"Hey, I've got you," George breathed, tears forming in his eyes, and Fred's gasps lessened slightly as he took in great gulps of air and struggled to sit up, one hand gripping George's shirt.

"Where… is he?" He croaked, his voice sounding hoarse, his breathing laboured.

"Over there," George said as he gestured with his head, before suddenly lurching forward and wrapping his arms tightly around Fred, mindful of his neck. Fred weakly raised a hand to pat George reassuringly on the back, and George let out a sound that was a cross between a sob and a sigh. He eventually pulled away, although his hands were clamped tightly on Fred's upper arms, holding him up.

"You go… make sure," Fred managed to get out before coughing violently. George hovered, looking reluctant to leave Fred's side. "Go." Fred repeated.

George unwillingly got up and headed over to the Death Eater, who was still unconscious. George's lip curled in loathing as he observed the man who had tried to kill Fred. He raised his wand, feeling an overwhelming urge to cause the man some serious pain, but he fought the feeling off, instead watching as thin ropes emerged from his wand, tying the Death Eater up tightly to the point where he would be unable to move once he woke up. Glaring angrily at the man, George spat on the ground beside him before turning around to find Fred struggling to rise to his feet, still looking pale, the red marks standing out clearly even from a distance.

George hurried over to his side, grabbing Fred's arm and helping him stand. Fred was still wheezing slightly, his hand rising to touch the tender skin on his neck.

"Hey, don't touch," George said gently, stopping Fred's hand. "It'll only make it worse." Fred looked at George and swallowed.

"Don't think it can get much worse," he replied with a small smile. George's face twitched, half of him wanting to smile, the other half wanting to grab onto Fred and never let go. He settled for a hand on Fred's shoulder instead as he looked around them.

"Where are we?" He asked, frowning at the grassy growth surrounding them. It has apparently rained recently, because the soil beneath George's feet was soft, and both he and Fred had mud stains on their clothes, however he couldn't recall there being any rainfall near them for weeks.

"We're-" Fred's voice cut out at he coughed again, and George immediately reached into his bag, pulling out a bottle of water. Fred accepted it gratefully, wincing slightly as the liquid ran down his throat.

"I don't know where we are," Fred said, voice sounding slightly stronger, definitely less raspy. "I got startled when he grabbed me, I just pictured this place and we ended up here."

"Well I guess the Death Eaters found Lee's first hide out," George commented as he put the bottle back into his bag.

"Yeah," Fred replied softly, looking concerned. "I hope he got out in time."

"Fred, are you alright?" George burst out, unable to hide the question.

"I'm fine George," Fred replied quietly, shooting George a reassuring grin. It didn't do much to ease George's concern, but he decided not to broach the subject at that moment.

"Shall we go check out Lee's second hiding spot then?" George asked, unsure whether Fred was capable of apparating in his state. Fred nodded, wincing as the movement irritated his neck.

"Can you apparate?" He asked George, who looked at him before bursting out laughing.

"Fred, you were just strangled and you want to know if _I_ can apparate?" He asked incredulously. Fred merely raised an eyebrow, and George rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I can apparate," he replied exasperatedly. "Can _you_?" Fred nodded lightly, bending down to pick up his backpack which had fallen off in the struggle.

"Let's go," he said, voice still hoarse. This time George reached for Fred's hand, not because he was unable to apparate alone, but because he was slightly fearful that Fred wouldn't be able to make it and he didn't want Fred to be lost somewhere without him. With a shallow breath, Fred twisted in the air and disappeared, taking George with him.

They landed on hard concrete, both of them staggering slightly. Fred gripped George's arm tightly as they both struggled to maintain their balance. George fought to see through his blurry vision, trying to detect any threats. It was difficult though, as things kept swooping in and out of his line of vision. George was only sure of two things, the feeling of his wand in one hand, and Fred's hand gripped tightly in his other. A sudden noise behind them made Fred and George turn around, their wands pointed in front of them. They relaxed when they saw Lee running out of an old building towards them.

"You guys came!" Lee exclaimed happily, then paused as he saw Fred's neck. "What-"

"Long story," Fred rasped. "Any chance we could sit down?"

"Oh yeah, sure…" Lee ushered them into the decrepit building, and they were startled to find that the inside looked quite new.

"Fixed it up myself," Lee said proudly. George grinned as both he and Fred took a seat beside each other at a nearby table. Lee sat across from them, looking concerned.

"So what happened?" He asked, eyes involuntarily flickering to Fred's neck.

"We went to your first hideout. It's overrun by Death Eater's now," George explained and Lee nodded.

"Yeah, they found it last week. It was a blitz attack; I barely had time to get here. So the Death Eaters jumped you?"

"Yeah. We disapparated immediately, but one of them grabbed onto me as we left. I tried to shake him off, but when we landed he jumped on Fred and started strangling him," George replied, eyes darkening. Lee let out a low whistle.

"Then what?"

"I stunned him, and we left him there. Came here straight after," George said, shrugging. He glanced at Fred's neck, wincing slightly. "Do you have anything for bruises? I don't think we brought our cream."

"I'll go check." Lee ran off, leaving the twins alone.

"How are you feeling?" George asked Fred immediately. Fred shrugged, his hand rising to touch his neck before dropping as he remembered that he shouldn't.

"Bit sore, but I'll live," he said with a grin.

"You nearly... Fred, you nearly…" George couldn't bring himself to say it, but Fred understood.

"Hey, you saved me," he reminded George.

"Yeah, but you…I mean you almost… Fred, you…" George's hands were flailing as he attempted to speak.

"George, it's alright," Fred said, looking half touched, half amused at George's inability to form a sentence. He reached out and grasped George's hands, effectively stopping them from moving. "I'm fine, George. I'm still here, we're both fine. And we made it to Lee's." With a light squeeze, he let go. George sighed, resting his slightly dizzy head on the table for a moment before it shot back up.

"Mum was right about the danger," he said.

"Let's not ever tell her that, alright?" Fred replied with a slight smirk.

"Yeah, definitely," George grinned. At that moment Lee came running back into the room, clutching a tube of cream.

"I found it!" He exclaimed unnecessarily, handing the cream to George. George immediately unscrewed the lid and squeezed the orange cream onto his finger. He applied it to Fred's neck carefully, covering up the red marks.

"Cold," Fred commented, twitching slightly, but he sat still, allowing George to rub the cream into his neck.

"All done," George proclaimed finally, handing the tube back to Lee. "Thanks for that."

"Yeah, thanks Lee," Fred said gratefully.

"Hey, I'm just glad you guys came. It's getting a bit lonely out here on my own every day," Lee admitted.

"We were stuck at our Aunt's house, cleaning. Now _that's _boring," George shot back, grinning despite himself.

"So when exactly do we get to be a part of Potterwatch?" Fred asked, rubbing his hands together.

"The next broadcast isn't until tomorrow. But I'm sure we'll find a way to occupy ourselves," Lee added with a grin.

And they did, catching up on what had happened in the past few months, playing exploding snap, gorging themselves of sweets. Lupin and Kingsley dropped by the next day for the broadcast, accompanied by a heavily pregnant Tonks.

"Wow you're _huge_ Tonks!" Fred blurted out immediately, eyeing her bulging stomach.

"That's my wife you're talking about Fred," Lupin scolded lightly but he was grinning. Tonks laughed loudly.

"If I were any other pregnant woman, you would be on the receiving end of a dozen curses right now," she informed Fred, grinning.

"Good thing you're not just any pregnant woman then, right?" Fred replied with a cheeky grin. Tonks laughed again.

The broadcast was set for the afternoon. After much discussion, George eventually decided to sit it out. He was still feeling the after effects of apparating so rapidly from the previous day, so rather than take part he stayed with Tonks while Lee, Lupin, Kingsley and Fred spoke on air. Fred ordered George to stay well within eyesight though and George complied, taking a seat beside Tonks.

"So how's the baby doing Tonks?" He asked, observing her swollen belly.

"Good. Very good," she said, beaming. "He or she is due out in April sometime."

"You don't know the gender yet?" George asked, frowning.

"We decided we wanted it to be a surprise. So how are you and Fred doing, George?" Tonks asked, reclining further in her chair.

"Yeah, we're alright." George said, unsure how much detail she wanted.

"I saw the marks on Fred's neck. Is he alright?"

"Oh. Yeah, we had a run in with a Death Eater. He's… he's hurt, but he's okay," George responded, smiling slightly but unable to hide the concern from his voice.

"Well that's good. I can't image something happening to only one of you. You ear was quite a shock," Tonks said, gesturing to his missing ear.

"Tell me about it," George grumbled slightly.

"Does it bother you then, that you're not identical anymore?" Tonks asked curiously.

"No. At least, I don't think so. It bothered us more because we realised that… that this war was serious and we could get hurt. That sounds really stupid but-"

"No it doesn't. The two of you aren't even twenty yet; you shouldn't be dealing with this kind of stuff. Life and death and that nonsense. You should be out there, living life to the fullest." Tonks sounded slightly wistful, but she was smiling nonetheless.

"We plan on it, as soon as this war is over," George replied, grinning.

"Oh yeah? Tell me about it!" Tonks sounded genuinely interested in the twin's future plans and so George told her about the new inventions they were planning on making, the places they would go, the things they intended to do together.

"… and after all that, we're going to go back to Hogwarts and get one of those toilet seats for Ginny," George finished, wearing a large smile. Tonks burst out laughing.

"That sounds amazing," she replied, her eyes sparkling.

"Yeah," George replied grinning, glancing over to see Fred laughing at something Lee had said. "It does, doesn't it."

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: It's Fred and George's 20<em>_th__ birthday. Need I say more?_

_Thanks for reading, and please review! :)_


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **We've finally reached Fred and George's birthday! Quite a few of you have asked me whether I was going to write this. And I know that while half of you are excited, the other half of you are dreading this because it's their final birthday together, which I totally understand. But hopefully by the end you'll all be happy with it :) Oh and I only just realised that I started this story a month ago. My, time has flown! Massive thanks as always to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Dimcairien**, **midnightstar19**, **Aris1013**, **MaddyGervais**, **SlyDevil. COOKIES**, **Lamb**, **snitch-bewitch**, **ncis-lady**, and **chocolateMnMs**.

**SlyDevil. COOKIES**: It's one of my favourite childhood movies :D Glad you liked the Tonks part; she's an awesome character, so I wanted to add her in somewhere. Took me 15 chapters, but hey, she made it! :D

**Lamb**: Hehe yes well, Fred doesn't exactly seem the type to filter what he says. Although if Molly had been there, I'm sure he would have gotten a good scolding; she definitely taught him better. :)

**Chapter 16**

George awoke with a start when Fred sat on him.

"Oof!"

"Morning Georgie!" Fred proclaimed with a dazzling grin. The sun shone brightly behind him, leaving George facing two things apparently intent on blinding him. Groaning under Fred's weight, George somehow managed to jerk his knees up, sending Fred tumbling to the floor. Moments later he reappeared, looking disgruntled.

"Well happy birthday to you too," he said with a pout.

Birthday? George started grinning as he realised the date. How could he have forgotten? He and Fred loved their birthday. Not only did they receive presents, but it was the perfect day to play pranks. If anyone complained, they had a legitimate excuse. George jumped up from his bed and gave Fred a zealous hug.

"Happy birthday Fred!" He exclaimed excitedly.

"Happy Birthday both of you!" Lee called cheerfully from across the room. He thrust a hastily wrapped present at them. "It's not much, but under the circumstances…" Fred and George quickly pulled the wrapping off to reveal a small framed picture of the three of them from their seventh year at Hogwarts. In the picture, Fred and George had both jumped on Lee, sending all three tumbling to the ground. Lee was weakly waving from the bottom of the pile while Fred and George laughed, apparently perfectly comfortable squashing their friend.

"It's perfect Lee, thank you," Fred said sincerely, pulling Lee into a one armed hug. George grinned, placing the frame on the table next to their family photo that Fred still carted around.

"So, the big two-oh. What do you do when you've just turned twenty?" Lee mused, so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the wide grins Fred and George shared.

"Well I have an idea," Fred replied with a smirk.

"Oh yeah?" Lee asked, looking up in time to see two pillows flying towards his face.

Twenty minutes later, all three were completely covered in feathers, their pillows nothing more than strips of fabric.

"Well, that definitely woke me up," George commented as he attempted to brush the feathers off himself. Fred laughed, ruffling his hair and showering himself with feathers in the process. Lee complained loudly as he realised just how many feathers were stuck in his dreadlocks. He received another pillow in the face, one of the spares George had kept hidden 'for emergencies'.

"Very mature guys," Lee said, spitting feathers out of his mouth.

"We do try," Fred replied with a wide grin. The three headed out to the kitchen area, intent on eating breakfast after their workout. Lee led the way, Fred and George following, deciding not to tell Lee that he still had a bunch of feathers stuck to the back of his head.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" George mumbled through a spoonful of cereal.

"I suppose we should go to Muriel's. Mum'll murder us if we don't go back for a visit on our birthday."

"Oh bugger, I hope Muriel's not there."

"It's her house; where else do you think she'll be?" Fred asked, one eyebrow shooting up.

"Shut up, let me hope in peace." George flicked his strawberry at Fred, rolling his eyes when Fred caught it perfectly between his teeth, rising to his feet and bowing to Lee's applause.

"Well, come on then," Fred said, voice muffled by the strawberry. They washed up and changed into their usual attire, Fred wrapping a thin scarf around his neck to hide the still visible finger marks which stubbornly remained despite the copious amounts of cream they applied to it everyday. Before leaving, they charmed a large bucket of refilling water to follow Lee around, constantly soaking him, much to Lee's chagrin.

Fred was still reluctant to let George apparate alone unless it was absolutely necessary, and although George valued his independence, he didn't want to start a fight with Fred on their birthday. He therefore didn't complain when Fred suggested he apparate them both to Muriel's, instead extending his hand to Fred. He was rewarded with a thankful smile before Fred apparated the pair of them, and George once again felt as though he were being squashed into a small tube. Seconds later, they appeared in Muriel's yard, the house looming above them. George immediately staggered to one side, head reeling.

"George?" Fred asked worriedly as he moved to George's side. George raised a hand, breathing heavily. He swallowed before looking up with a reassuring smile.

"I'm okay," he said, slightly breathily. He paused for a few more seconds, focusing on his breathing before straightening up.

"You sure?" Fred probed, still looking worried. George nodded. Fred didn't look particularly convinced, but perhaps he too didn't want to start an argument on their birthday, because he didn't press the matter any further. The twins walked across the lawn until they reached the front door. George was tempted to place a Decoy Detonator in front of the door to surprise whoever answered, but decided not to after realising his parents might think it was an attack and attempt to jinx him. Instead he knocked politely, taking a step back beside Fred to avoid any sudden hugs or smothering.

The door creaked open, and Molly peered out at them.

"Oh, thank goodness you two are here," She said, face stressed as she opened the door to let them in. Frowning slightly, Fred and George entered. That definitely wasn't the greeting they had expected.

"Mum, what-" Fred tried to ask, but she shushed them as she closed the door before turning and ushering them through the hallway.

"What's going-" George tried, but he too was rewarded with a sharp 'shush'. Feeling slightly indignant, George shut his mouth and followed her, Fred half a step behind him. They both felt a slight sense of unease, compounded when they realised the house was deserted. Molly paused at the kitchen door, looking tense.

"Mum, is everyone alright?" Fred croaked, his hand unconsciously gripping tightly onto George's arm. Molly sighed, before pushing the door open and stepping aside to let them enter, her eyes downcast. Fred and George cautiously took a step into the darkened room, their eyes scanning to see who had been hurt.

"SURPRISE!" Several loud voices yelled out loudly, causing both twins to jump about a foot in the air.

"What-" George was completely flabbergasted. Fred was gaping at the bright decorations hanging off the walls, his eyes wide.

"Happy Birthday!" Ginny proclaimed loudly, standing closest to them, clutching several balloons. Behind her was Arthur, who was grinning at his sons, and, unexpectedly, Bill and Charlie standing side by side, both beaming. Lupin stood next to them, with Tonks seated on a chair beside him, her stomach huge. Lee stood a little away from everyone on a pile of wet towels, still being drenched by the bucket of water. Mouth twitching slightly, George removed the spell, and the bucket crashed to the ground as Lee heaved a sigh of relief.

"Did we surprise you?" Molly asked from behind then, smiling.

"We thought someone had been hurt!" Fred exclaimed, still looking incredulously at the decorations and their friends and family standing around. "You… you… mum, you're a _really_ good actress!" He finished, looking shocked.

"Yes well, you learn some things from having seven children," Molly reminded him, before pulling them both in for a hug. "Happy Birthday boys."

"I can't believe you're all here," George said, gazing around.

"It's not every day your twins turn twenty," Arthur replied, embracing George, then Fred.

"But there's a war going on," Fred said, looking around as though expecting everyone to leave once they remembered the war.

"We know, Fred," Bill said with an amused grin.

"Then why are you here?" Fred asked, looking bemused. "It's dangerous!"

"Because it's your birthday." Bill said slowly.

"But... but why are you _all_ here? I mean Tonks, you're _pregnant_." Tonks laughed, patting her stomach.

"Why should that stop me from partying?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"And Charlie, we thought you were off somewhere in Romania," Fred stated, still dazed.

"I couldn't miss your birthday, could I?" He replied, with a wide grin.

"Oi, just because I'm here all the time doesn't make me less important," a resentful voice called out. George laughed, pulling Ginny into his arms.

"Course not. I suppose you had something to do with this?" He asked with a knowing look. Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said airily, but couldn't stop herself from grinning. Lupin pressed bottles of Butterbeer into Fred and George's hands before wishing them a happy birthday as well.

"Fleur couldn't come unfortunately, but she asked me to wish you both as well," Bill told the twins.

"You better have brought a good present to make up for it," George informed him seriously. Bill laughed.

"This is brilliant, thanks guys," Fred said to the whole room once he had finished hugging everyone.

"Speech!" Bill cheered, soon joined by Charlie, Tonks, Ginny and Lee, who was finally dry. Fred glanced at George, who shrugged.

"Well, we're obviously really grateful that you all took the time to celebrate our birthday with us," Fred started off.

"We know that going anywhere nowadays is a safety risk, so we really do appreciate it," George added.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. There was a pause.

"That's it?" Bill asked, disappointed. "Come on, there must be something else."

"Aren't you supposed to be telling embarrassing stories about _us_?" George shot back. Both Bill and Charlie brightened up.

"George," Fred whined. George had the decency to look rather regretful at his comment.

"Well, where do we begin?" Bill asked.

"Oh, how about their fifth birthday, when George was sick and Fred insisted we had the party upstairs in their bedroom?" Charlie said, eyes gleaming.

"Oh yes, you had quite an impressive tantrum Fred," Bill replied, smirking. "You threw yourself onto the floor and-"

"Okay okay, we're not done yet," Fred interrupted hastily, not wanting to hear any more about his five year old self.

"Right yes. We also want to thank mum," George said, nodding at their mother. "For preparing the best meal ever."

"You guys haven't eaten yet," Ginny objected.

"Yes, but we _know_ it's going to be the best meal ever," Fred responded, rolling his eyes. Ginny glared at him, and he gave her a wide grin in return.

"And dad," George continued. "For no doubt putting up with mum's frantic cleaning, and her worrying ways."

"You know us too well," Arthur replied, before cowering under Molly's glare.

"And of course Ginny," Fred added. "For the decorations and more than likely for doing a lot of the planning." Ginny beamed in response, raising her bottle of Butterbeer in their direction.

"And Lee. Wait, how did you even get here?" George asked, interrupting his own speech.

"I apparated as soon as you guys left. Came in through the back door," Lee replied, grinning.

"Oh right. Well thank you Lee, for being here. And Remus and Tonks too, it can't have been easy for you to travel," Fred said, once again eyeing Tonks' stomach as though afraid the baby was planning on making an appearance at any moment.

"It wasn't," Lupin agreed. "The baby doesn't fancy apparating. Made its dear mother feel rather sick." George was well aware of the glance both Fred and Bill shot him at that moment, the only two in the room who knew about his own problem with apparating.

"But it was worth it to come here," Tonks reassured them.

"Well thank you."

"Hey, where's Muriel?" George asked, finally realising their Aunt was nowhere to be seen.

"She's upstairs. We invited her, but she said parties aren't her thing," Ginny told them with a grin, knowing how much they disliked Muriel.

"Well that's one of the best birthday presents we could ask for!" Fred mumbled into George's ear. George chuckled, nodding.

"And what about us?" Charlie demanded, gesturing to himself and Bill. Fred and George exchanged a glance.

"Well, I _suppose_ we're grateful you're here," Fred said, sighing slightly.

"You don't add much to the décor, but I suppose you try," George said dismissively. Charlie and Bill both leapt forward, grabbing the twins in their arms and squeezing them tight, laughing.

"Uncle! UNCLE!" George yelped, his voice muffled by Bill's shirt.

"No, I'm Bill," Bill told him with a wide grin. Fred groaned into Charlie's shoulder.

"So bad. That was _so bad_ Bill," he said disappointedly. "How are we even _related_?"

"I don't think anyone will ever question your family ties," Lee commented, eyeing the fiery red hair every Weasley in the room possessed. Lupin and Tonks both stifled their laughter. Bill and Charlie eventually released Fred and George from their grip, leaving the twins looking rather dishevelled.

"Well, after that unnecessary display of affection," George said, glaring slightly at his older brothers who looked extremely pleased with themselves.

"To Fred and George," Arthur declared, raising his bottle of Butterbeer in a toast.

"To Fred and George," Everyone repeated, raising their own bottles.

"Here's to another twenty years," Bill called out over the clinking bottles.

"'Ear 'ear!" Fred and George exclaimed loudly together, laughing when everyone else groaned loudly.

"Picture time," Molly exclaimed, clapping her hands together proudly. Arthur produced an old camera, wiping the dust off the lens as he walked forward to take the picture. Fred slung an arm around George, pulling them together. George wrapped his own arm around Fred's shoulder, and the two beamed at the camera. At that moment Lee turned his back to the twins, intending to talk to Tonks, and they spotted a lone feather still sticking out of his hair. They both burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching each other to stop themselves from toppling over. Arthur was grinning as he took the picture, managing to capture the moment perfectly.

"Alright, everyone gather around now," he ordered, and the group obliged, surrounding the twins. Arthur joined them, waving his wand to take the picture. The camera went off with a bright flash, temporarily blinding everyone in the room.

"Okay everyone, it's time for food," Molly said loudly, drawing everyone's attention immediately. Charlie let out a whoop as everyone hurriedly set the table, forcing Fred and George into two seats which had been squashed together at the head of the table. Bill placed two party hats atop their heads; a blue one on Fred, and a green one on George. They stared at each other for a second before swapping hats, grinning.

The meal was delicious; Molly had really outdone herself. Fred and George managed to entertain their guests with several pranks and jokes throughout lunch, although they toned it down after Ginny nearly choked on her piece of chicken from laughing so hard.

"Cake time," Molly announced once they were finished, and everyone at the table cheered. She carried in a large cake in the shape of three interwoven magenta W's, a tribute to their shop (and their robes). The cake would occasionally produce small fireworks, a handy charm Arthur had come across.

"Mum, it's brilliant!" Fred exclaimed, gazing rather adoringly at the cake. George was busy counting the candles, making sure there were twenty.

"Alright everyone, on the count of three," Lupin coached. "One… Two…. Three!"

The entire group began an extremely rousing version of Happy Birthday, ending it by letting off several long lasting sparklers which would surely remain for several days. Beaming, Fred and George blew out the candles together before grabbing the knife and making the first cut. Molly took over after that, slicing the cake up quickly and efficiently.

Once she was done, she began serving it to everyone. Fred and George each took a piece, and turned to feed each other, something they'd done every birthday, a family tradition. They both slowly lifted their piece of cake up, eyeing each other, before simultaneously shoving the cake into each other's faces, laughing.

Another tradition that took place every year.

Arthur snapped a photo while Lee roared with laughter in the background at the sight of Fred and George with magenta icing spread over their mouths, chins, hair and eyebrows. Molly scolded them, but her smile wasn't helpful in convincing them that she was angry.

"This cake is delicious Molly!" Tonks exclaimed, munching away on her slice. "The baby likes it too."

"The baby seems to have developed a sweet tooth," Lupin commented as he devoured his own slice of cake.

"He's not the only one," Tonks said pointedly, and Lupin flashed his rather pink teeth in her direction. Meanwhile Fred and George were each grabbing a second slice of cake, this time with the intention of actually eating it. Once everyone had finished eating, Molly began clearing up, with the help of Arthur and Lupin. Tonks offered, but between her clumsiness and pregnancy, Molly flatly denied her offer.

"No dear, you just stay right there."

"Fred, why are you still wearing a scarf? It's getting warm," Ginny noted, reaching over to tug on Fred's scarf. Fred ducked out of reach with wide eyes, frantically checking to make sure his scarf was still covering his neck.

"Ginny, leave it." George muttered out of the side of his mouth. Ginny opened her mouth to retaliate, but he shot her a look.

"We'll tell you all later," Fred said softly, nodding towards Bill and Charlie who were both listening. All three looked dissatisfied, but didn't press the matter.

They managed to sneak off after a while, leaving Lee to distract Molly and Arthur. The five Weasley's crammed themselves into one of the many side rooms Muriel's house had.

"Ok, what's going on?" Bill asked once the door was closed. Fred slowly removed his scarf, bracing himself for the reaction. He wasn't disappointed.

Ginny let out a gasp as her hands flew to cover her mouth in shock. Charlie's fists had clenched, and Bill drew himself up to his full height, his face grave.

"What happened?" He asked quietly, and they could all hear the anger underlying his voice. George quickly explained how they had been surprised by the Death Eaters, and what had transpired after. By the time he had finished, Charlie was seated on an old trunk, his head in his hands, while Ginny had wrapped her arms around Fred's torso, holding on tightly. Bill had remained standing, his face emotionless.

"Well, there's nothing we can do," he finally said, sighing.

"We could hunt him down and make him regret it," Charlie said with an ugly look on his face.

"As much as I would love to, we don't even know who he is. No, the only thing you guys can do is be careful. You were lucky there were two of you," Bill commented, and both Fred and George nodded.

"Don't worry; we don't have any intention of splitting up." Fred reassured them.

"You guys can't tell mum or dad though," George said, and although Bill, Charlie and Ginny looked reluctant, they agreed, knowing too well what their parent's reactions would be if they found out. After a pause, Ginny hugged the twins before opening the door and leaving. Charlie followedher, pausing to adjust Fred's scarf gently before he left. Bill remained, regarding the twins, who gazed uneasily back.

"Bill, you're not going to tell us to stay at home or anything are you?" George asked cautiously after a moment. Bill shook his head.

"No, I just- why are you two so attracted to trouble?" He asked, sighing heavily.

"We're not attracted to trouble; trouble's attracted to _us_," Fred replied indignantly.

"I can see that!" Bill shot back immediately. And then he smiled, ruffling their hair. "You two take care of each other, okay?"

"Of course," Fred and George responded immediately together, without even exchanging a glance first. Bill smiled again, before ushering them out of the room.

"And where have you three been?" Molly demanded as they wandered back to the dining room. Charlie and Ginny had already made themselves comfortable, their disappearance having gone unnoticed.

"Just showing Bill a prank we intend to pull," Fred replied with a cheeky grin. Molly rolled her eyes but accepted his explanation, and Bill gave Fred a nod of approval for his quick thinking.

"Well, hold off your pranks for a while," Tonks said with a grin. "Because it's time for presents!"

They spent the next several hours opening and examining the gifts everyone had brought. Between the numerous prank items given to them by Tonks, Lupin, and Bill, and the unique ingredients Charlie had brought from Romania, Fred and George were brimming with new ideas for their shop. Ginny's large supply of sweets was also gladly accepted, as their stash was running low.

"We were meant to give you both something special but in our rush to leave home we left it behind," Molly said, wringing her hands.

"Oh mum, the party is enough," George protested, but she shook her head.

"We know how much you boys love presents," Arthur explained with a grin, and everyone laughed. Fred and George had been rather enthusiastic with their present opening.

"But as soon as we can return home, we'll give them to you," Molly promised.

After a light dinner (everyone was still stuffed from lunch), Molly ushered everyone into the sitting room and lit a fire, as the house was growing chilly. Everyone crowded around, lounging on the various couches and armchairs in the room, chatting loudly. George, who had gone to the kitchen to get a glass of water, re-entered the room to find Fred perched on the armrest of a couch furthest from the fire, watching everyone else talking.

"Feeling antisocial?" George teased as he stood next to Fred. Fred looked up, a light smile on his lips.

"No, just… thinking of how lucky we are," he said softly. George nodded, and the two fell into a comfortable silence as they observed their family and friends, pleased to see that everyone looked relaxed and happy. The light from the fire was burning bright, casting dancing shadows around the room.

"I can't believe we're _twenty_," George voiced.

"Do you feel any different?" Fred asked. George shook his head. "Oh good, so it's not just me then," Fred said with a relieved grin. George laughed.

"Happy birthday Fred," he said softly, nudging Fred lightly with his elbow. He leant against the armrest beside Fred.

"You know, I'm glad it's you I've spent twenty years with," Fred said quietly after a pause, turning to face George. "I can't imagine anyone else putting up with me for so long." He smiled faintly, but George recognised how hard it had been for Fred to tell him that, because Fred wasn't the type to bare his soul unless he felt it was important. He wrapped an arm around Fred's shoulder and pulled him close so that Fred's head was nestled under George's chin.

"And I'm glad it's you I've spent twenty years with," he replied back. They both turned to face the rest of their family with a content smile, George's hand still resting on Fred's shoulder.

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: An enjoyable day is interrupted when Fred, George and Lee are spotted by several Snatchers. <em>

_Thanks for reading and please review! :)_


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **So, we're up to the second last chapter. I'm actually getting a little sentimental over here... I'm going to miss this story! Gigantic thank you to my gorgeous reviewers: **ncis-lady, snitch-bewitch, Lamb, cutietrp, chocolateMnMs, midnightstar19, Aris1013, Dimcairien, MaddyGervais, loveandpeace24 **and **SlyDevil. COOKIES. **This story would be _nothing_ without you guys.

**Lamb**: Charlie's your third favourite… I'm guessing Fred and George are first and second? Or George and Fred. One or the other :)Haha well Lee's been in the same dormitory as the twins for seven years… I'm sure he's used to it by now. Or at least come to expect it. :D

**SlyDevil. COOKIES**: Glad you liked the last chapter. And hehe, nothing too bad happens this chapter, don't worry :D

So the idea for this chapter was actually given to me by **chocolateMnMs**, who asked whether there would be Snatchers in the story. This is the product of that suggestion. Hope it does the idea justice!

**Chapter 17**

"Haha, nice one George," Lee commented as they walked down a side alley in some remote location, intent on heading back to their hideout. George grinned, accepting the compliment as Fred bumped his shoulder proudly. They had just finished a successful broadcast of Potterwatch, with George delivering the last few lines, and had gone to grab some Butterbeers to celebrate.

"Yeah, that last line was-" Fred suddenly stopped talking, raising a hand to stop the others from making any noises.

"What is it?" George whispered. They all held their breath, eyes widening as they heard voices approaching nearby.

"…speak the Dark Lord's name and next thing they know, we've got them," a dangerous sounding voice said. The sound of several people laughing echoed ominously through the alleyway.

"It's Snatchers. They must be making rounds," Lee whispered, his eyes wide. George stiffened at the word, glancing at Fred. They had heard of the Snatchers, but had never had an encounter. They both dreaded to think what would happen if they were caught now that it was a known fact that Ron was helping Harry.

"Hey!" They heard one of the Snatchers yell out as they spotted Fred, George and Lee.

"Run!" Lee yelled, and the three took off, sprinting down an alley, the Snatchers close behind. Fred was in the middle, George to his right, Lee to his left. They dashed down the alley, taking a sharp left at the end, and found themselves at yet another alley, with several rundown shops connected.

Sensing they were in serious danger, Lee disapparated. Fred glanced quickly at George; in the flustered state they were in, there was no way George could successfully disapparate on his own, and Fred was worried that he might accidentally splinch George if he tried to disapparate them both. He couldn't apparate with George, and there was no way in hell he was leaving his brother alone. George looked at him and understood straightaway; they couldn't disapparate. That only left one possible solution. They had to somehow outrun the Snatchers.

Fred and George barrelled through the front door of one of the empty shops, sprinting past the ruined displays, just making it to the door of the backroom when the first Snatcher shot a spell at them. It barely missed George's head, instead shattering the shelf beside him. With a string of loud, rather descriptive expletives aimed at the Snatcher, Fred yanked on George's hand, urging him to follow.

The two exited the shop and found themselves in another dim side alley. There was an unpleasant smell lingering in the air and George's eyes widened as he realised what he had assumed was a pile of rubbish was in fact a person.

"George, come on!" Fred cried out, already beginning to run down the alley. George followed, his heart pounding frantically. They ducked under a large fallen roof panel lodged between the two exterior walls and turned to the left. Fred abruptly stopped as he was met with a brick wall, George crashing into him, unable to stop in time.

"Back back back!" Fred yelped, and they took off again, this time with George in the lead. Their legs were straining with the effort of sprinting; they hadn't done exercise like this since Quidditch training at Hogwarts, over two years ago. George could feel a stitch beginning to form in his side and he clutched it frantically, willing it to go away. Glancing behind him, he could see a number of Snatchers chasing after them, some ten metres behind. He felt a thrill of fear when he saw one of them raise their wand.

"Fred!" George yelled, and somehow Fred seemed to understand the tone of George's voice because he hurtled into George, pushing him into another side alley as a curse struck the wall where they had been moments before. They continued running, feet and hearts pounding. George could hear the Snatchers still following them, yelling at each other frantically.

George felt a surge of panic; he found himself wanting to apparate, but knew if he were to stop and attempt to concentrate, he would be caught. Instead, he and Fred ran faster, dodging curses aimed their way, occasionally sending their own jinxes back, although these caused more damage to the walls and ground than the Snatchers.

They had just reached the end of the alley which split into a fork when there was a loud crack and two Snatchers stood before them, grinning sadistically. One of them grabbed George by the arm while the other managed to catch hold of Fred's shirt. Fred and George both found themselves unable to get away, as each Snatcher had one arm around their neck, the other clutching their wand arm tightly, preventing them from aiming their wands at anything other than the ground.

"And what do we have here?" The Snatcher holding George asked in a low voice as he examined George, yanking George's head back by his hair roughly to look at his face.

"Let him go!" Fred cried out angrily, struggling furiously against his captor. The Snatchers laughed, amused by Fred's concern.

"Oh, are you worried we're going to hurt your brother?" One of them asked mockingly. The rest of the Snatchers had caught up by now, still panting from the run. There were six in total, each looking ecstatic that they had finally caught their prey. Both Fred and George were struggling now, but their captors were too strong. Fred cried out in pain as his Snatcher twisted his arm roughly.

"Stop it!" George yelled, viciously elbowing his captor, who let out a gasp of pain but refused to let go. George decided it was time to resort to old measures; he sank his teeth into the soft flesh grasping his neck. It worked; the Snatcher let out a howl of pain and shoved George away, cradling his arm. George went flying forward, using his arms to break his fall.

"Expelliarmus!" He gasped as he rolled over, and the Snatcher nearest to him went flying several feet back. George was about to aim at a second Snatcher when a foot connected with his ribs, and he faltered, curling into himself in pain. He once again found himself being gripped tightly by the first Snatcher who had grabbed him. This time the Snatcher kept his arm well away from George's mouth, although George wasn't even considering trying to bite him; judging from the throbbing emanating from his side, the kick had cracked at least one of his ribs, and George was struggling not to whimper in pain.

Fred meanwhile was struggling almost manically against his Snatcher in an attempt to get to George. He lifted his foot and slammed it backwards into the Snatcher's knee, effectively dislocating it if the loud crack they heard was any indication. The Snatcher cried out in pain and released Fred automatically, clutching his knee. Fred raced forward, aiming his wand at the Snatcher holding George.

"Stupefy!" He yelled, and George once again found himself released. Stumbling forward, he had just reached Fred when the other Snatchers jumped into action, racing towards them. Eyes wide, Fred and George split unwillingly, Fred taking the left fork, George taking the right. As soon as they parted George felt his heartbeat increase as his worry for Fred drove him to run faster, his shoes slapping loudly against the floor.

He could hear someone running behind him, and he turned to glance over his shoulder. Not a moment too soon either; he was forced to duck as the Snatcher shot a green jet of light at him. George aimed a hex back before he took a sharp right and found himself in yet another alley. He continued running, his breathing uneven and frantic, and the pain in his side growing worse every second.

Suddenly George heard a loud explosion in the distance; his heart clenched with fear as he realised that was the direction Fred had been running. He almost came to a halt, the horror was so overwhelming, but the sound of running feet behind him urged him onwards.

He ran for several metres before turning a corner, and found himself standing in front of the shop they had run through at the beginning of the chase. He must have somehow run in a giant loop. Panting heavily, George ran into the shop, heading up the rickety staircase leading to the second floor, gripping the banister every so often for support as his side twinged angrily. Once he reached the top he ducked into one of the rooms, clamping his hand over his mouth in an attempt to quieten his breathing. He could hear several voices downstairs searching for him, but George barely noticed, attempting to focus. It was hard though, harder than it had ever been, because of the crushing fear that something had happened to Fred in that explosion.

George took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He closed his eyes, counting down from five, just like he and Fred had practised so many times before.

"Five… Four… Three… Two…"

The instant George reached "one", the door to the room he was in slammed open, and two triumphant Snatchers stood at the doorway. Their grins slackened as George disapparated with a loud crack, leaving them empty handed.

"Oof!"

George hit the ground. Hard. Winded, the pain in his side doubled, he struggled to his feet, gasping for breath. He let out a low groan as the nausea and pain hit him like a tonne of bricks, forcing him back onto the ground, retching. By now his breathing had been reduced to weak wheezes as the trees around him danced before his eyes; George blinked, trying to make them stay still because the movement was making him feel sick.

Without Fred there to assist, the pain in George's head wasn't diminishing in the slightest, and he clutched it weakly, as though hoping the touch would relieve the pain. It had grown so bad that he almost forgot about his cracked rib, until he shifted and it made itself known again. After several long, excruciating minutes, the pain began to fade slightly, his vision returned to normal and his stomach seemed relatively content, although a lot emptier than it had been.

His ear still ringing slightly, George looked around, trying to figure out where he was. It took him several moments before he finally recognised his surroundings; he was back at their holiday campground, the place he and Fred had fled to after going to St Mungo's so many months before. Unlike last time, George had apparated into the forest, but he could still see the lake and mountains ahead. He headed towards it on unsteady legs, heart clenched with worry, pausing every now and again to lean on a tree when he felt close to collapsing. If he had somehow apparated here, he was sure Fred would too. They had an uncanny ability to figure out where the other was. That is, if Fred wasn't- _no_, George thought furiously. _Fred's alive_.

George was near the clearing when he heard it. A loud crack, indicating that someone had apparated nearby. Eyes wide, he began walking to see who it was, but at that instant his stomach rebelled and George was forced to his knees as a streak of pain flashed through his head again, his wand slipping from his hand. George let out a low groan, clutching his head between his hands, willing the pain to leave but if anything it only grew worse. He could hear someone crashing around in the undergrowth close by, and although he knew he should get up and run because he was a sitting target at the moment- literally- he couldn't. Instead he bowed his head, hands gripping his hair tightly.

A pair of hands suddenly grabbed him, and George flinched before realising that he recognised them. He desperately wanted to lift his head and confirm his suspicion, but his head felt so heavy that he couldn't. There was a voice talking to him, their tone reassuring, but George could hardly make out what they were saying through the pain.

The hands clutched his shoulders tightly before moving to his head, and then suddenly one of the hands was replaced by a wand. A low mumble of words later, and George felt the pain slowly ebb away, leaving relief in its wake. The wand then moved to his side, and George could almost feel his bones knitting themselves together. He took in a breath, finally able to breathe without wincing.

After a few minutes, he managed to raise his head and open his eyes. Fred was staring back at him, his own eyes several shades darker than normal with worry.

"Hey," Fred said quietly. George swallowed, his throat still raw.

"Hey yourself," he replied with a small smile, and Fred laughed softly, his eyes shiny.

"Are you alright?" Fred asked, hand still gripping George's shoulder. George nodded, and rose to his feet shakily with Fred's help. Once he was on his feet, Fred handed him his wand which he had dropped before. And then suddenly the overwhelming panic George had been feeling before came back to him, and he remembered how worried he had been when he had heard the explosion, how he had feared that Fred hadn't made it, and he turned to look at Fred before him, alive and well.

"George?" Fred asked cautiously, having noticed George's change in demeanour. A split second later, his eyes widened as George collided with him. Fred let out a grunt of surprise at the force of the contact but George clung onto Fred for dear life. A moment later Fred's legs buckled under the weight of both himself and George, and the two fell to the ground again, George's arms still encircling Fred's neck tightly.

"You okay George?" Fred asked, sounding worried, patting George's back lightly. George nodded into Fred's neck, blinking away tears and composing himself before drawing back.

"Are you?" He asked seriously, focusing his attention on Fred, checking him over for cuts and bruises. In the dim light, it was difficult to see.

"I'm fine," Fred said, waving a hand.

"But I heard an explosion-"

"Nah, that was me. Blew up one of the walls of the alley as we were running. They didn't like that too much though," Fred commented, wincing slightly and it was only then that George spotted the blood soaking Fred's jeans on his right leg.

"Fred!" he exclaimed in horror. Fred glanced down, apparently just as surprised as George.

"Oh," he remarked, reaching out with a finger to prod the wound curiously. George slapped his finger away as he prepared to look at the wound. Out of the two of them, George was better at healing spells and injuries in general. Probably because he had more practise; as children, Fred had always been the more adventurous of the two, the one who climbed one branch higher, who led the way on their expeditions, who tested out products they were unsure of. As a result, Fred had received a lot more injuries than George, and required a lot more healing. George had picked up a few tips watching their mother, Bill or Charlie fixing up Fred. As they grew older, it often fell to him to fix up Fred.

"Don't touch," George scolded lightly, although his own fingers were gently rolling up the leg of Fred's jeans. He hissed at the sight of a long wound still oozing blood along Fred's calf. It wasn't very deep, but the sight of Fred's blood was one George felt he would never get used to. The loose tooth fiasco of '87 still had him shuddering.

"You're touching it," Fred said sulkily. George rolled his eyes as he placed the tip of his wand on Fred's leg, and murmured a spell. A bright light shone over Fred's leg, and as it faded the twins could see the wound had closed up, leaving nothing more than a scar surrounded by drying blood.

"How did you do that?" Fred asked, eyes wide. George shrugged.

"Found one of the books Hermione left behind about healing spells. I figured that it might come in handy one day." Fred looked surprised at his initiative before grinning.

"My brother, the healer," he said fondly. "Hey George, maybe you should start wearing one of those Muggle nurse outfits. I'm sure all the girls would love to see your hairy legs." George gave him a nudge in the ribs.

"Oi, shut it you," he reprimanded gently as he helped haul Fred to his feet. "Besides, you did a pretty good of healing me back there."

"Well that- that's completely different," Fred replied, suddenly looking slightly flustered.

"Of course." George's lip twitched.

"My jeans are ruined," Fred said quickly in an attempt to change the subject, glancing down regretfully at his bloody, torn jeans.

"Be thankful it wasn't worse," George remarked. He still had an arm looped around Fred, and to his relief Fred didn't try to move away, perhaps knowing that George needed the contact to reassure himself that Fred was alright.

Because for the first time in the war, it was George who had been left worrying about Fred, not the other way around. Until now, George had been the one facing the physical challenges but it was Fred who was always waiting for him, always ready to pick up the pieces, and George hadn't fully understood how that felt until this very moment. Even the time when Fred had nearly been strangled, George had still been present, had been able to do something. But this, the immense fear, the gut wrenching panic that overtook his mind, his body, was something that George had never felt before, and looking at Fred he _finally_ understood what Fred had been going through for the past nine months.

"Well come on, we'd better get back before Lee goes crazy with worry," Fred said. George nodded, before pausing.

"Fred, I…" he looked down, embarrassed.

"What?" Fred asked.

"I don't think I can apparate alone," George said quietly. "At least not today."

"Well I don't think I want to apparate alone today anyway," Fred replied with a gentle smile, offering his arm to George. George grasped it, and the two disapparated, reappearing just outside of their hideout. George didn't even have the chance to stumble before Fred had grabbed him and pulled him into a hug, clutching George tightly to prevent him from falling, and George suddenly realised that he hadn't been the only one worried before, that Fred had arrived at the forest to find his twin huddled on the floor in pain, and that Fred probably needed just as much reassurance as George had. He returned the hug, not only because he felt too weak to stand on his own, but also to assure Fred that he was okay. Several minutes and a lot of discreet wet sniffs later, they finally parted, heading indoors.

"I'm so sorry!" Was the first thing Lee exclaimed when Fred and George entered their living quarters, George still slightly weak and grasping onto Fred's arm for support. "I thought you guys were going to disapparate with me, I didn't mean to leave you behind!" Lee opened his mouth to apologise further, took one look at the blood on Fred's jeans, and swooned.

"Grab him!" Fred yelped, and the twins raced over to prevent their friend from falling on his face. They reached him just in time, lowering him onto the nearby couch. Lee awoke several minutes later to find both Fred and George smirking down at him.

"I- I- oh shut it," He grumbled as the twins burst out laughing.

"Nice swoon Lee," George said, chuckling.

"I was worried, okay? And then I saw the blood…" Lee's voice trailed off as his face paled again.

"Oi, don't you go fainting on us again," Fred warned, still smirking. "Like a girl."

"Shut up!"

"What's the feminine name for Lee?" George asked, grinning.

"Leanne?"

"Lenora?"

"Leesa?"

"Very funny guys," Lee grumbled, although he couldn't help but grin at Fred and George's happy smiles. "Fred, is your leg okay?"

"It's fine. George healed it in no time," Fred said, looking gratefully at his brother.

"George can heal?" Lee looked impressed. "Hey Fred, we should get him one of those nurse uniforms!"

"That's what I said!" Fred joined in with Lee's laughter, leaving George looking very disgruntled.

"Next time you can just keel over from blood loss then," he huffed, although his lips twitched involuntarily. He couldn't help but burst out laughing when Lee fell off the couch giggling hysterically. Fred glanced up, still laughing and George grinned back at him, thankful that his brother was still safe, still breathing, still with him.

* * *

><p><em>Next (and final) chapter: Fred and George are alerted that Harry has returned to Hogwarts. It's time for the Final Battle to begin. <em>

_Thanks for reading, and please review :)_


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Last chapter! Can't believe this is all over… anyway, I know you're all half excited, half dreading this chapter, so I won't keep you from it. But I just have to say one last massive, gigantic, enormous thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **MaddyGervais**, **Dimcairien**, **SlyDevil. COOKIES**, **chocolateMnMs**, **midnightstar19**, **ncis-lady**, **Lamb**, **Aris1013**, **TeamGredAndForge**, **cutietrp**, **snitch-bewitch** and **sashafrazzle**. You guys are just… truly amazing. The feedback I got was extremely touching, so thank you :D And I also have to say a special thanks to **midnightstar19**, **MaddyGervais **and **chocolateMnMs** who have followed this story from the very beginning. Thank you, you guys :) And thanks to everyone who had ever reviewed, really :)

**Chapter 18**

George was rummaging around in his backpack when he felt his leg heat up.

"What on earth?" He mumbled, reaching into his pocket where the heat was emanating from. His eyes widened as he pulled out the glowing fake gold galleon Hermione had given them way back in their seventh year when they were in the DA. The message across the galleon read '_Harry's back. We're fighting. Hogs Head now._'

"Fred!" George yelled, and the name had no sooner left his lips when Fred came dashing into the room.

"The DA," Fred panted, holding up his own glowing coin bearing the same message.

"I know." George replied, his eyes still wide.

"This is it George," Fred said, looking as shocked as George felt. "Harry's back. This is the final battle." They both stood still, staring at each other as they realised the full implications. The silence was broken as Lee came dashing into the room, clutching his own galleon.

"Guys! The DA…" his voice trailed off as he realised both Fred and George had already read the message.

"We need to let the Order know," George said, dragging his eyes away from Fred. "Lee, can you-"

"I'm on it," Lee replied and he rushed out of the room to their broadcasting area. George turned back to Fred who was still standing in the same spot, his eyes now fixated on the galleon, still glowing in his palm.

"Fred," George prompted and Fred slowly raised his head, his eyes dark.

"This is it, George," Fred repeated, voice slightly hoarse. George bit his lip as he approached Fred.

"We're going to be fine," he stated, knowing exactly what was lurking on Fred's mind. "Fred, listen to me. Everyone's going to be _fine_."

"Yeah," Fred replied, blinking a few times before his expression changed and he was back to his normal self, assertive and unafraid. "We need to get Ginny. She would have gotten the message too; we need to make sure she stays at home." George nodded in agreement, turning as Lee ran back into the room.

"Lee, we'll meet you at Hogs Head, alright? We have to go check on Ginny," George said hurriedly. Lee looked slightly startled at the turn of events but he nodded. Fred and George shot him a small smile before they disapparated together, appearing moments later outside Muriel's house. George stumbled immediately, his vision already growing blurry, but Fred caught him before he fell, gripping George tightly. George could feel Fred's heart racing against his chest, but Fred's face was passive, refusing to reveal the fear he was feeling. Taking a few deep breaths, drawing on Fred's strength, George eventually managed to stand on his own, ignoring the slight tremble in his legs. Nodding at Fred, the two headed towards the house.

"Ginny!" George yelled as they ran through the front door. A second later, they heard footsteps trampling down the staircase, and a red head burst into the room.

"Fred, George! The DA-" Ginny began.

"We know." Fred and George said together, holding out their DA coins which were still glowing.

"Harry's back, he's back at Hogwarts," Ginny rushed on.

"Ginny, we know. We got the message too," George said, slightly amused.

"Oh right, sorry. It's just…. I haven't seen Harry in such a long time." Ginny blushed slightly.

"Not to mention Ron or Hermione," Fred reminded her a little pointedly. Her cheeks flushed further.

"Of course, them as well. I haven't forgotten," Ginny said crossly, folding her arms.

"Well I should hope not, Ron's your brother after all," George replied, smirking sightly.

"Oh shut up. So are we going now?" Ginny asked enthusiastically.

"Ginny, you… you can't come with us," Fred said hesitantly, dreading Ginny's reaction.

"What do you mean? Of course I'm coming with you," Ginny replied dismissively.

"Ginny, mum will murder us if we take you along. You're underage-"

"Since when have either of you ever cared about being underage?" Ginny's nostrils flared, her hair seemed to crackle, and for an instant she looked so much like her mother that both Fred and George took a step back.

"You've both been thumbing the rules since before you could talk! Out of everyone in our family, I would think that I could at least count on you two!"

"It's not that Ginny-"

"I was in the DA too, remember? I still am. I can fight! I want to fight!"

It's going to be dangerous out there-"

"I don't care"

"We do! We don't want to lose you Ginny!"

"And I don't want to lose any of you," Ginny whispered, tears filling her eyes. "Please don't make me stay here alone. Please, I can't. _Please_."

Fred and George exchanged a glance before sighing simultaneously.

"Fine," Fred relented, and Ginny, now beaming, launched herself at her brothers.

"But you have to promise to do what we say and not put yourself into any positions of danger," George warned as Ginny released them, still grinning.

"Of course," she said without missing a beat. "Now let's go before we miss the whole thing!"

"Hang on, where are mum and dad?" Fred asked, noticing the house was completely empty.

"They went to visit Bill and Fleur. Muriel's asleep, before you ask," Ginny continued. "I've been bored out of my mind for days." Fred and George grinned as they left the house and stepped out into the field. Fred took Ginny's hand, seeing as she was unable to apparate yet, and George was hardly capable of apparating someone else with him. Nodding at George, Fred closed his eyes and the three apparated to Hogsmeade.

George doubled over as soon as his feet touched the ground, gasping. His body still wasn't used to apparating long distances in such a short time frame, and the nausea he had been fighting off since their first apparition before was threatening to make an appearance.

"George," he heard a voice say and suddenly a pair of arms were wrapping themselves around his chest, keeping him from sinking to his knees, and George felt a surge of gratefulness that Fred was with him. George bent his head forward, letting his forehead fall onto Fred's shoulder as he swallowed several times, forcing the nausea down.

"What's happening?" A female voice asked worriedly. Ginny.

"Nothing Ginny, it's fine," he heard Fred say, and George would have snorted if he hadn't been struggling to breathe. He needed to have a talk with Fred about coming up with convincing lies.

"Fred! George!" Someone hissed urgently from a nearby alley. George felt Fred stiffen as he looked up, before relaxing.

"Lee," Fred hissed back, and the sound of footsteps approaching reached George's ears. He made a move to stand upright on his own but regretted it immediately; pain flashed through his head, his vision swam and the nausea rose to his throat instantly. He immediately dropped to his knees, taking Fred with him.

"George!" He heard Ginny exclaim, followed by Lee who had just reached them.

"What happened?" Lee asked hurriedly, dropping to his own knees beside the twins.

"Just help me get him off the streets." Fred replied, determined to get George to safety before he explained anything. Ginny and Lee complied, Ginny slightly reluctantly, wanting to know what was wrong with George. Between the three of them they somehow managing to heave George, who didn't have the energy to help, into the side alley Lee had been hiding in.

George immediately slumped against the nearby wall, swallowing as he tried to fight off the nausea once more. Fred, who had never left George's side, moved to stand in front of George, still supporting him. George rested his heavy head on Fred's shoulder again, trying to even out his breathing which was still irregular. His hand automatically rose to grip Fred's shirt for comfort and support, fingers knotting themselves tightly into the fabric.

"Fred what the hell is going on?" Ginny asked, her voice wavering.

"It's George's ear. He's been getting better at apparating, but we've never had to apparate so far so many times before," Fred explained distractedly, tightening his hold as George whimpered softly into his shoulder.

"How long had this been happening?" Ginny demanded.

"A while," Fred replied, refusing to meet Ginny's eyes.

"And you never bothered to tell me? After swearing we wouldn't keep secrets from each other anymore? Fred, how could you-"

"Ginny, I don't think this is the best time," Fred hissed, his eyes dark with worry and frustration. Ginny bit her lip angrily but didn't reply. Suddenly, Lee's head shot up and his eyes widened.

"I can hear someone coming," he whispered and Fred and Ginny immediately sprung to action. Slinging George's arms around their shoulders, they stumbled to the end of the alley, reaching another street. They could hear heavy feet pounding behind them, angry voices approaching nearby. Fred quickly reached a hand into his pocket, pulling out several Decoy Detonators. He flung them behind him in several directions, ducking slightly as they exploded with a loud bang, releasing clouds of thick black smoke and effectively rendering the Death Eaters blind for a few moments.

"In here," Lee whispered urgently, holding open the door to the Hogs Head. Fred, George and Ginny rushed inside, Ginny releasing George the moment they were in to draw her wand and aim it at the door in case they were followed. Fred helped lower George into a chair, kneeling in front of his twin.

"Hey, how're you doing Georgie?" He asked quietly, hands resting on George's knees.

"Just… just give me a moment?" George responded weakly. Fred nodded immediately before standing, squeezing the back of George's neck gently to let George know he was still there. It took a few minutes, but eventually George rose to his feet, looking paler than normal, his hand still gripping the back of the chair tightly.

"You okay George?" Lee asked from where he was standing next to a large painting. Before George had a chance to reply, he was interrupted by another voice.

"You lot were meant to apparate straight into here, not alert the Death Eaters that there are more intruders," a furious voice grumbled. The four spun around to find an old man standing before them, with stringy grey hair, spectacles, and piercing blue eyes that immediately reminded George of Dumbledore.

"We got sidetracked Aberforth," Lee said apologetically. "There were Death Eaters after us-"

"Of course there were, they've cast a caterwauling charm around here, haven't they? They can detect whenever anyone's out on the streets after curfew." The old man looked irritated, but the harshness left his voice when he realised the harried state the occupants of the room were in. George was still incredibly pale and slightly shaky, Fred was almost beside himself with worry over George, Ginny was half furious at her brothers for hiding such a big secret while her other half desperately wanted to hug them, and Lee just looked incredibly stressed.

"How many more of you are coming?"Aberforth asked in a gruff voice. "I was planning on taking a kip, except you lot keep interrupting." Lee shrugged.

"No clue," he replied.

"Well I suppose you'll be wanting to get into Hogwarts then? You just missed a group who went in. Just step through that portrait there." Lee exchanged a look with Fred before hesitantly clambering onto the mantelpiece and approaching the portrait, which had swung open to reveal a large hole. Fred, George and Ginny approached the portrait too, each clambering in after Lee. Fred went last, helping his siblings over before climbing through himself. They headed down the dimly lit tunnel quickly, Fred still hovering close to George.

"George, are you okay?" Lee asked after a few minutes, looking at his friend in concern.

"Yeah," George replied with a weak smile.

"Is _now_ the time to talk about it Fred?" Ginny interrupted angrily. She glared at Fred, unable to direct her ferocious look at George when he looked so peaky. Fred let out a wistful sigh before spreading his arms out.

"Do your worst," he replied. Ginny was only too happy to comply.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me! After we decided that we'd never keep important secrets from each other, I find out you've been hiding this from me? This kind of secret is considered important Fred! You're lucky I haven't hexed you yet, how could you hide this from me?"

"We know Ginny, but in our defence George had the problem before we made that promise." Fred pointed out.

"How does that make it any better?" Ginny asked shrilly. Lee, walking behind them, winced.

"Well the promise applied to-"

"Don't you dare try and worm your way out of this," Ginny said threateningly, wand clutched tightly in her hand.

"What Fred is trying to say Ginny," George interjected, elbowing his brother to make him shut up, "is that we're really sorry for not telling you. We didn't want you to worry about us, but we realise now that we should have just told you. And we promise to tell you everything from now on. Right Fred?"

"Right," Fred mumbled, rubbing his sore side. Ginny regarded her brothers for a moment before lowering her wand and flashing them a satisfied smile.

"Well good," she declared before turning around and resuming her brisk pace.

Not for the first time, George was exceptionally glad that Ginny's temper was similar to Fred's rather than his own. Fred and Ginny were quick to explode, but just as quick to forgive unlike George, who didn't get angry easily, but when he did it was a sight to behold. And then run away from as quickly as possible, according to his family members.

"I thought you were going to check on Ginny, not bring her along," Lee commented quietly with a raised eyebrow as he fell in line beside the twins once he was sure Ginny was not planning on hexing Fred. Ginny was now a few metres ahead, leading the way.

"Yeah, well you try saying no to her when she's all pouty and crying," Fred grumbled. Ginny turned and flashed him a grin. Lee shook his head.

"She's got you guys wrapped around her finger," he said, smirking.

"And she knows it too." George muttered, but he still grinned fondly. They continued walking in silence until they reached another door which swung open as they approached it, revealing a sea of faces staring back at them.

It seemed like minutes later, but in reality it was more like an hour when Fred and George found themselves assembled in the Great Hall with the rest of the school and the Order. Kingsley had just ordered students to assemble into groups, and Fred had volunteered himself and George to lead students who were to protect the passageways into the school.

George could feel his heart pounding within his chest from adrenaline. The Battle was about to begin, and the students and staff of Hogwarts were frantically arranging their defences. Younger students were being evacuated from the school while the older students prepared to fight.

"Fred and George, you take these students with you. Cover as many passages as you can," Kingsley ordered, gesturing to a bunch of sixth and seventh year students, as well as Lee, Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, their old Quidditch team mates.

"Got it. Alright guys, follow us," Fred said loudly, leading the way, George by his side. They made their way through the Entrance Hall and up the staircase, Fred and George discussing which passageways they needed to protect and delegating students to do so.

"Okay Angelina, you and Alicia take a few people and guard the one-eyed witch statue. I'm sure it won't take them long to find it." Fred instructed, recalling from memory the locations of each of the passageways leading out of- and into- the Castle.

"That's a secret passage?" Alicia asked, shocked. George grinned.

"Yeah."

Shaking their heads in disbelief, Angelina and Alicia left to find the statue, followed by several students, all of whom had their wands drawn in preparation.

"Ok, Whomping Willow is out," George said, counting the passageways on his fingers. "The passage behind the mirror on the fourth floor is out, unless they find a way to unblock it."

"Unlikely, but we should have it guarded just in case."

"What about the passageway behind the state of Gregory the Smarmy?" Lee asked.

"And the one on the seventh floor, behind that weird statue. Remember George?"

"Yeah. Okay, so Oliver, you and you three-" George pointed to three seventh year Ravenclaw's "-go guard the mirror on the fourth floor. You know the one?"

"Of course," Oliver replied, already heading that way. "Never knew it was a passageway though!"

"Well, there's a lot about Hogwarts that people don't know about," Fred replied with a grin.

"Alright, that leaves-"

"-Gregory the Smarmy-"

"-and the statue on the seventh floor." George finished.

Lee shook his head. "I will _never_ get used to that," he informed them.

"Okay so who's going to take which statue?" Fred asked. George hesitated for a second before tugging Fred by the sleeve, leading him away from the rest of the crowd who were glancing around nervously.

"Fred, we should split up," George said regretfully. Fred looked at him in surprise.

"Why?" He asked, bewildered.

"Because both those passageways are extremely likely to get attacked. We're both good fighters; we need to be protecting both of them."

"No. George, _no_. If something happens-"

"I know. But we owe it to Hogwarts, Fred. When we decided we would fight, we both knew we would be putting our lives at risk."

"Yeah but we're meant to be fighting _together_ George. Not separately," Fred argued.

"I don't want to split up Fred. But I think that we have to." George said quietly. Fred looked at him silently for a moment before moving back to the rest of the group.

"Okay, Katie, you're with George. You guys are guarding the statue on the seventh floor. Lee, you and me are guarding Gregory the Smarmy. The rest of you pick a group and go." Fred said loudly, and immediately the remaining students sorted into two groups and headed off in opposite directions. Lee and Katie remained behind, both staring at Fred and George, sensing a slight tension.

"Katie, I'll meet you up there, yeah?" George asked her quietly. She nodded, picking up the hint, and left. After a backward glance, Lee did the same, heading towards his post. George, biting his lip, approached Fred who had his back turned.

"Fred," George pressed.

"How am I supposed to look out for you if I'm not fighting with you?" Fred asked quietly, hands folded across his chest. George moved so he was facing Fred.

"I promise you I'll stay safe, Fred," he said encouragingly.

"It's a battle, George. People _die_," Fred replied harshly.

George winced, but didn't back down. "I won't." He said firmly.

"You can't know that," Fred shot back, his eyes hard.

"Fred," George pleaded. "You know I don't like this any more than you do."

Fred scoffed, but his expression grew softer. He unfolded his arms, letting George know that he wasn't going to argue anymore.

"How's your ear?" Fred asked, nodding his head towards the side of George's head.

"Manageable," George replied honestly. The loud explosions and constant shouting had started up the dull ringing in his head again, but he didn't think it would affect his fighting too much. A few students ran past them, wands drawn, apparently disregarding the rules and fighting despite their age.

"Who would have thought it would end like this?" George asked quietly, eyes following the students who couldn't have been more than fifteen.

"Don't say that," Fred murmured, bumping George's shoulder lightly. "It's not the end. Hopefully not, anyway. I mean really, our school of all places? After all the effort we put in to get out of here?" George grinned slightly, nodding. They both started as a loud shudder ran through the Castle, accompanied by yells from both inside and outside the walls of Hogwarts. From the sounds of things, the battle had already begun.

"We… we should go," Fred said quietly, his eyes darkening.

"Yeah," George agreed, but neither made a move to leave. Eventually George reluctantly took the initiative and turned to Fred with a feeble smile.

"I'll see you when it's all over?" He asked weakly. Fred stared at him for a moment before flinging his arms around George, fingers scrabbling to get a hold on George's jacket. George returned the embrace, resting his chin on Fred's shoulder, blinking back tears. He tightened his grip, trying to express him emotions through his embrace because everything he felt, every emotion coursing through his body, was too strong, too overwhelming to even attempt to describe through words. He felt Fred burrow his head into George's shoulder, trying to stop the choked sobs threatening to rise in his throat.

"George," Fred said quietly into George's ear, his voice wavering slightly. "I- you know I-"

"Yeah," George breathed, his own voice unsteady. "I know Fred. Of course I know. Me too."

"Good," Fred mumbled, the tip of his nose brushing against George's ear as he turned his head sideways, trying to hide his tears from the rest of the world.

They both clung to one another desperately, as though hoping that by doing so, they could somehow ensure they both made it out of the war alive. Eventually though they parted, George wiping his face with his sleeve, Fred sniffing. They stared at one another for a few moments wordlessly, knowing they had to part but both desperately wishing otherwise, and George was struck by how much things had changed in the past year. He and Fred would have run headfirst into a battle without any regard for their safety one year ago, but here they were, wishing beyond anything that they didn't have to fight, all too aware of what they had to lose.

"You be careful alright?" Fred finally said, furiously scrubbing at his face to hide any trace of his tears.

"Course I will," George replied dismissively, but Fred grabbed his arm.

"No, George I mean it. I-" Fred opened and closed his mouth several times, struggling to find the words before he sighed. "Just… just promise me you'll be careful out there," he said, his tone desperate.

George swallowed. "I will. I promise I will. You- you be careful too, yeah?" George asked, and Fred nodded solemnly. There was a pause, and suddenly George felt an overwhelming need to make Fred smile, because if his twin continued to look at him like that George wasn't sure he could remain in control of his emotions for much longer.

"Make sure you kick some Death Eater butt," George said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Oh I will. You know I will," Fred shot back, his smile lighting up his face momentarily, just as George had hoped. He turned to leave but hesitated, and George couldn't help but pull his twin into one last hug, pressing his lips chastely to the side of Fred's head for a moment as he clung desperately to Fred.

"Fine specimen of the male species we are," Fred joked lightly, voice drifting up from George's neck where his head was currently buried. George couldn't help but laugh as he released Fred, a hand still clutching Fred's shoulder. Another shudder echoed through the Castle, and there was a loud explosion from downstairs. George looked back at Fred, his heart pounding, and suddenly he didn't want Fred to go.

"I'll see you later George," Fred said, looking as reluctant to part as George felt. He gripped George's shoulder tightly for a second before flashing him a small grin and running down the corridor to find the rest of his group, leaving George to stare at his retreating back, hoping, wishing, _praying_ that somehow he would see Fred again.

* * *

><p><em>...The End <em>

_If you've made it this far, congratulations, you've reached the end of the story :) I thank you profusely for sticking with me through this, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. _

_I hope you don't all want to kill me now for not revealing what happens to Fred in the end. All I can say is… your opinions were EXTREMELY divided as to whether you wanted to see if Fred lived or died, and in an attempt to avoid disappointing anyone, I just avoided it altogether. Yes, I'm a coward :P But if any of you are interested, I have written an epilogue of sorts for this. It's shorter than normal, and it's DH compliant (aka warning: character death) but if anyone wants to read it, I'm more than happy to put it up separately. _

_Once again thank you for reading, and remember, reviews are always appreciated! :)_


	19. Epilogue

**A/N: **Okay, so firstly I have to say thank you thank you _thank you_ for all the lovely reviews you guys left! Unfortunately the last three days have been extremely hectic for me what with assignments and exams, so I haven't been able to respond but I promise that I will. Now, secondly, the epilogue. Most of you said you wanted to read it, so here it is. But I have to warn you: if you prefer to think of Fred surviving the Battle (much like I do) then DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER. Just completely ignore this chapter. Turn around and don't look back. For those of you still reading… I hope it's somewhat decent, despite it's short length :)

**Epilogue**

The War was over. Voldemort was defeated. Hogwarts, and the rest of the Magical World, was once again safe from the evil that had threatened to overtake them.

It was the beginning of a new life.

But as the celebrations kicked off, George was only aware of his heartbeat, pounding away in his chest. A constant rhythm, each beat taking him one step further from Fred.

_Oh God. _

George shut his eyes, trying to erase the image of his twin lying on the floor of the Great Hall, but it was no use. The picture was ingrained into George's mind, forcefully burrowing in his head, embedding itself in his every thought, his every breath.

_No. Stop, please stop._

His family was hovering nearby, all pale and grief stricken. Molly has resumed her painful sobs, buried into Arthur's chest. She had tried to hug George before but he had pushed her away, not wanting to be held by anyone other than the one person who would never hold him again. He should have felt guilty; he knew that in any other circumstance he would have, for causing his mother more grief. But he couldn't feel anything, not guilt, not sadness. It was as though a strange numbness had set in, separating him from everyone else, separating him from the pain and for one delirious moment George was sure it was Fred trying to protect him like Fred always did but then-

_Don't. Please don't_.

He left the corridor his family was standing in, walking until he reached an empty classroom that had somehow survived the attack. Strange, that something as pointless as a classroom should remain standing when his brother- _no_, George thought as his breath hitched. _Don't go there_. _Don't._ George perched himself on a table, bowing his head as he registered the complete silence around him. He was alone. Not just in the room, but in life. For the first time since birth, he was truly alone.

_Stop it. Just stop it. _

"George?" He heard a tentative voice ask, and he slowly, painfully raised his head to find Charlie standing in front of him.

"Charlie," he muttered, hating the dead quality his voice had, hating the grief etched upon Charlie's, and no doubt his own face, but beyond anything, hating the fact that Charlie had said 'George'. Not 'Fred and George', not 'you two', just 'George'. He looked back down, barely registering that Charlie had sat next to him until he felt a calloused hand upon his shoulder.

"George, I…" Charlie's voice trailed off, not knowing what to say. And to be honest, George didn't know what he wanted Charlie to say, because it didn't seem like there was anything worth saying. There was nothing Charlie could say that would make any sort of difference.

"The others told me what happened."

And George suddenly felt a burning rage in his gut, and he welcomed the anger because it felt good to be able to feel something other than the numbness that had settled in ever since he had seen Fred's body.

"Where were you?" He asked, his voice quiet but dangerous. Charlie didn't look taken aback by the question, if anything, he seemed to have been expecting it.

"George, I-"

"Where were you Charlie? Why weren't you here? What could possibly have been more important that this? We needed you here, our family needed you here. _Fred_ needed you here Charlie, so _where the hell were you_?" George was on his feet by this point, hands balled into fists, furiously blinking away tears.

"George, listen to me-" Charlie tried to grab George, but George pushed him away angrily, not wanting to feel human contact, not wanting to be comforted by anyone expect Fred. But Fred wasn't there. Fred would never be-

"No!" He roared, overcome with a mixture of emotions. He could feel the sadness, the utter despair beginning to creep in and he forced it down, focusing on the anger. Anger was good. Anger was easy. In a fit of rage, he launched himself at Charlie furiously, pummelling Charlie with his fists. Charlie blocked a fair few, but the majority of George's punches reached their target. After several minutes however, George could feel the rage beginning to leave him, and he let out a choked sob, willing the anger back because he didn't want to have to cope with the pain in his heart.

"Oh George," he heard Charlie whisper and George found himself being pulled into the chest he had just been attacking. He could feel Charlie's heart beating under his shirt, and the knowledge, the _injustice _that Fred's heart would never beat again struck George with such viciousness that he fell to his knees, clutching at his own chest, failing to fight back the tears that had been threatening to fall.

_Make it go away. Please… Fred, please, help me._

He could vaguely sense Charlie kneeling beside him, saying something but George couldn't focus. Charlie's face appeared blurry, as things often did when George had just apparated, but this time it wasn't his ear, this time it was his soul that was in pain and he didn't know how to fix it. He didn't know if he ever could. George let out another choked sob, trying to fight back the pain, clutching at his own shirt and pretending it was Fred's, pretending that Fred was there to comfort him like he had always been.

"George, it'll be alright," Charlie said soothingly but the words didn't help, didn't do a damn thing to make George feel better and the pain only grew worse when he realised that Charlie was avoiding his eyes, avoiding having to look at George because _of course_ he looked just like Fred.

George shakily raised his wand to his heart, muttering the spell he had heard Fred use so many times before when George's head was hurting in a vain attempt to relieve himself of the pain, even if only for a moment, because it was threatening to drag him down and he didn't know if he could fight it off. He didn't know if he wanted to. But the spell did nothing, created to stop physical not emotional pain, and George let out a strangled gasp as he once again realised how alone he felt. He curled up into a ball, pulling his limbs to his chest, as though by making himself a smaller target, the pain would fade.

"George…" Charlie seemed to be searching for something comforting to say but couldn't think of anything. Instead he wrapped his arms around his brother, and George didn't have the energy to push him away.

"He was with me the whole time," George choked out through his tears after several minutes of silence. "Ever since I lost my ear, he protected me and looked out for me."

"I know George, I know," Charlie said sadly, tightening his grip on George.

"And the one time he needed me I wasn't there for him."

Charlie released his hold on George slightly, pulling away so he could look George in the eye.

"Don't say that," he whispered, but George shook his head. "George, you couldn't have done anything."

"Yes I could." George angrily wiped his cheek, soaking his sleeve. "Fred would have found a way. Fred always found a way for me."

"No George, that's not true," Charlie tried to say reassuringly.

"Then how come I'm still here and he's not?"

_It's a battle, George. People die._ Fred's words came back to haunt George, and he curled up tighter.

"Not you. Not you Fred, you weren't supposed to die. You weren't supposed to-" George choked on his own words, rocking forward slightly, hunching over to block out the world, to block out the pain but it didn't work, the pain was still there and suddenly George felt claustrophobic in the small classroom. His breathing quickened as he struggled out of Charlie's grip and rose to his feet, stumbling towards the door. Ignoring Charlie's calls, George ran out into the corridor, his feet moving rapidly against the floor. He had no real destination, but he knew he had to walk, he had to get out, had to get away from everyone because there was nothing they could do. There was only one person in the world that could comfort him.

So when George found himself standing outside the Great Hall, he was hardly surprised. The hall was almost empty, everyone having gone outside to the grounds to begin proper celebrations. There were only a few mourners lingering about, tears streaming down their faces as they huddled over the bodies of loved ones who had left them. Among them George spotted tiny Dennis Creevy gasping through his tears as he kneeled beside his older brother Colin, and George almost felt a flicker of empathy at the sight but then it was gone, leaving him alone with his own pain once more.

Glancing past Dennis, George immediately spotted Fred, lying at the far end of the hall. He approached slowly, his heart growing heavier every step he took. By the time he reached Fred, his feet were dragging, his nose running, his eyes wet with tears and he was wishing he could feel that numbness again because anything had to be better than this.

Fred almost looked as though he were asleep. Someone had closed his eyes, but his lips were still turned upward in a smile. George quietly knelt beside Fred, staring at his twin. His dead twin.

It was ironic really. Fred had been so worried that he would lose someone in their family, that he would lose George, but in the end he was the one their family lost. He was the one George had lost. George choked back a sob, his fingers moving until they hovered over Fred's hand, resting by his side. He lowered his hand over Fred's, flinching at the contact. Fred's hand was cool beneath his fingers, and George was once again struck by how utterly lifeless Fred was.

_Well of course he's lifeless, he's dead_, George thought to himself, laughing humourlessly before he realised the full consequence of his thought. His laughter turned to a sob, and within a few seconds George found himself curled up beside Fred's body, wishing with all his heart that Fred was there to comfort him, to give him a long warm hug before shoving him away and calling him a sap because that was what Fred did.

"Come back," he whispered quietly into Fred's ear, tears streaming sideways down his face. "Please come back Fred." _I need you._

But George's pleas went unanswered.


	20. Chapter 17 Fred's POV

**A/N: **So you're all probably sick of me right now. The story's meant to be finished, right? But I had a request for Fred's POV of chapter 17 (the Snatcher chapter) from **Carkey**, and I kind of fell in love with the idea, but I had nowhere else to post it, hence it ended up as yet another chapter. So yes, for anyone who's interested in the idea, here it is. I prefer the original better, but hopefully this adds something to it :) Oh right, and as always, I have to thank everyone who reviewed the epilogue chapter. I don't know if there's any point in naming everyone because I don't know if you'll read this, but **Shhayy-j11, Dimcairien, TeamGredAndForge, midnightstar19, PlantyPie, SolelyReader, snitch-bewitch, chocolateMnMs, Lone Torment, ncis-lady, SlyDevil. COOKIES** and **Atherin**, I thank you all VERY much.

**Chapter 17 (Fred's POV)**

Fred struggled against the hands gripping him. He had almost believed they would get away; sure they could outrun their pursuers, until two Snatchers had surprised both Fred and George by apparating directly in front of them, cutting off their path. Glancing over, he saw the Snatcher holding George pull George's head back by his hair, his eyes examining George's face.

"And what do we have here?" The Snatcher asked, and Fred felt fury rise in his stomach at the taunting tone aimed at his brother.

"Let him go!" He yelled, trying to rip his arms out of the Snatcher's grasp. The only response he received was the arms around him tightening their hold, restricting him movements further.

"Oh, are you worried we're going to hurt your brother?" The Snatcher holding him asked mockingly. The other Snatchers had caught up by now, and Fred's breath caught in his throat as he observed the five men before him, realising just how much trouble they were in. He resumed his struggles, trying to aim his wand, and the Snatcher twisted his arm roughly, causing Fred to let out an involuntary cry of pain.

"Stop it!" George yelled, and he somehow managed to manoeuvre his elbow until it connected with his captor's side. The Snatcher holding George gasped in pain but refused to let go, and so George decided to do what he did best, and sank his teeth into the Snatcher's arm wrapped around his neck. The Snatcher released him immediately with a cry, and Fred felt a thrill of both excitement and terror; excitement that George had gotten free, but terror at what the Snatcher's would do if they caught George again. He watched, speechless, as George fell to the floor.

"Expelliarmus" George gasped out as he rolled over, and one of the Snatcher's went flying back. Fred watched in horror as a second Snatcher advanced on George, and he felt a shiver of foreboding course through his body. He began struggling violently, trying to get loose, but before he could the Snatcher had kicked George sharply in the ribs and Fred was left as breathless as George looked. George immediately curled into himself, his hands grasping at his chest in pain before his original captor yanked him to his feet and once again restrained him.

Fred was seeing red by this point, struggling manically against the arms holding him, wanting to murder the men who had hurt George but also desperately needing to get his brother to safety. Realizing through his anger that the hands weren't going to give way, he instead lifted his foot and slammed it back as hard as he could into his captor's knee. It worked: there was a resounding crack and the Snatcher let out a howl of pain, his arms releasing Fred, who immediately raised his wand at the man holding George.

"Stupefy!" Fred cried out, and the Snatcher who had been restraining George went flying backwards. George stumbled forward, and Fred felt a surge of relief that was short lived as the remaining Snatchers snapped into action, racing towards the twins. Fred and George backed away before turning around and sprinting forward, both forgetting that the alley had split into a fork. In their hurry to avoid being hit by the jets of light flying at them, George ended up running into the right fork, while Fred took the left.

The instant they separated, Fred felt an overwhelming urge to go back and find George. However the constant stream of spells aimed in his direction made it impossible for him to do, and instead Fred was forced further down the alley, further away from George. His heart was pounding from a combination of adrenaline and fear, his breaths coming out in short gasps as he took a sharp left and continued running. His heart clenched in fear as he realised that George would be running with at least one cracked, if not broken rib, and he turned and sent a curse at the Snatcher's chasing him as a way to relieve himself of the anger building up inside.

Unfortunately the curse missed, and Fred found himself being chased by three men instead of two. Evidently, the Snatcher whose knee he had dislocated had managed to heal himself and catch up to the rest of the group. He seemed to have taken Fred's attack personally, judging from the sheer number of curses and hexes he sent flying at Fred. Fred was forced to duck several times, swearing as curses narrowly missed hitting him. The only thing that kept him sane, kept him on his feet, was that he could hear the vague sounds of yelling to his right. The voices were distant, but as long as he could hear them, Fred knew that George was still on his feet, still running, still alive, and it was that thought alone that forced Fred onwards, stopping the fear from consuming him.

After a particularly close call with a curse that had Fred careening into a wall to stop himself from being hit, Fred decided he had had enough. Turning around mid stride, he pointed his wand at the section of wall residing between himself and the Snatchers. The wall exploded instantly, sending bricks flying everywhere. A cloud of dust and debris fell over everyone, and Fred could barely see anymore but he still ran forward, praying he wouldn't hit a wall or any other obstacle. Behind him, he could hear coughing and the sound of three different footsteps following him, at a slower pace than before.

Just when Fred though he had a chance of outrunning them, a sharp pain struck his leg. He stumbled sideways into a wall, pausing for a moment before pushing on through the pain, barely sparing a glance at his leg despite the throbbing. Glancing back, he spotted the Snatcher who had injured him; the man had his wand raised, this time aiming at Fred's heart. Fred ducked into another alley before turning several corners, determined to lose his pursuers. It was at that moment that he was struck with the realization that he could no longer hear yelling coming from the direction George had been running. Fred stumbled to a halt, breathing hard but finding himself breathless with fear at the same time. Surely George wasn't- he couldn't be- he would have felt if something had happened to George, surely-

Fred's thoughts were interrupted as two Snatcher's rounded a corner several metres ahead, leading them to face Fred. They spotted him instantly and ran forward, both leering. Fred spun around but the three Snatchers who had been chasing him had finally made it out of the dust cloud and wreckage, and were advancing quickly. Fred swallowed, eyes flickering between the two groups, unsure what to do, his mind a clouded haze of dread and panic that they had George, that he was too late, that he had failed his twin.

And then he was struck with the realisation that all the Snatchers were with him, minus the one who had been stunned by Fred. And if they were all with _him_, that meant that they _weren't_ with George. Which meant that somehow, George had managed to get away. Fred felt a rush of relief so strong it left him feeling light-headed, and he found himself stumbling backwards, away from both approaching groups. George was alive. George was- where was he?

Fred pondered this quickly as he backed up against the wall. George had been in pain, and he had been scared. And when George felt afraid, he would often retreat to comfort… to Fred. But clearly that option had been unavailable, meaning George would have gone somewhere that he felt safe. Somewhere he could associate with happy memories, but also somewhere unlikely to be discovered, because George was clever like that. And suddenly, Fred knew exactly where his brother would have gone. Closing his eyes, ignoring the Snatchers that had nearly reached him, Fred focused on his destination, and twisted into the air, leaving five very angry Snatchers behind.

He found himself surrounded by large trees and bushes. _Whoops, misjudged that a bit_, Fred thought as he tried to determine which direction the clearing he and George had previously visited was in. Suddenly, his head shot up as he heard a soft groan in the distance. Fred immediately headed in the direction, pushing his way through the bushes, ignoring the branches that caught on his clothes and hair because he _knew_ that groan.

"George?" He yelled out, disregarding the fact that anyone could be nearby, that he could have placed himself in an extremely dangerous situation, because it was George that had groaned, and all Fred could think of was that he had to get to George immediately. His calls received no answer, which only increased the fear Fred was feeling. Why didn't George answer? _Maybe he can't_, Fred's traitorous conscience answered. _Maybe he's hurt so badly that he can't even- stop it_, Fred chided himself. His conscience had no chance to reply because at that moment Fred finally found his brother.

George was on his knees, his fingers stark white in contrast to the fiery red hair they were gripping. His head was bowed and Fred couldn't see his face but he could tell from George's position that he was in serious pain. Fred dropped to his knees and grabbed George's shoulders as gently as he could when considering his heart was threatening to pound through his chest with fear. He felt George flinch under his hands, and that response hurt more than Fred thought it could.

"George it's me. It's Fred," he said reassuringly, and although George didn't reply, the tension left his shoulders slightly, although his breathing was still uneven. Fred began checking George over for any physical injuries, but he couldn't see anything that could cause the pain George was in. Which only left his head.

"George, is it your head?" Fred pressed, trying to hide the waver in his voice, but George didn't say anything, didn't even seem to hear Fred, and Fred felt a thrill of terror run up his spine because George _always_ answered him.

"George?" He asked again, hands tightening their hold on George's shoulder as he waited for George to answer. After receiving no response, Fred moved his hands to George's head, resting them beside George's own hands, which were trembling.

"George, hey, it's okay, it's alright," Fred crooned, wishing desperately that he could do something to help. And then it struck him, and how could he have been so _stupid_? Fred groped in his pocket for his wand, yanking it out and pressing it against George's head lightly. Concentrating, he repeated the words he had read in a book so many months before, and a soft light left his wand, circling George's head once before glowing brightly and disappearing.

The pain on George's face eased, but there was still a slight tension in the way he was kneeling, his breathing still irregular, and Fred recalled the crack he had heard when the Snatcher's foot had connected with George's ribs. Moving his wand, fighting down the fury that had risen the moment he recalled the memory, he held it over George's rib cage, and echoed the same words. Much to his relief, the tension across George's face vanished, and he let out a soft sigh as his body slumped forward, only staying upright because of Fred's grasp.

"You're okay George," Fred said comfortingly, closing his eyes for a moment in gratitude that somehow he and George had made it, that they were still alive. His eyes flickered open seconds later, fixing upon George, who still hadn't made any movements.

And although Fred desperately wanted to ask George if he was okay, he stayed quiet, eyes never moving from his brother as he waited for George to look up, to confirm that he was alright. Which he eventually did, his eyes dark and thankfully painless. And there was so much that Fred wanted to say and do in that moment; tell George that he was so glad he was alright, recount how worried he had been that George was in danger, smother George in a hug and never let go. But staring into his brother's eyes, recognising that George was still weak, he somehow pushed down his emotions and took a deep breath.

"Hey," Fred said quietly.

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><p><em>Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed :)<em>


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